


The Angel Conundrum

by weeinterpreter



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer
Genre: Action/Adventure, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Mystery, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Mythology - Freeform, Slow Burn, Treasure Hunting, Urban Fantasy, World Travel, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 79,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26123236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weeinterpreter/pseuds/weeinterpreter
Summary: LATEST MISSING FAIRIES1. Clay Potts, elf, age 892. Bark Pines, pixie, age 1243. Fleur Clover, elf, age 632Preliminary reports confirm that the aforementioned fairies have active visas. Angel activity indicated at all locations.- exc. report 372, Capt. Trouble KelpButler knew he shouldn't complain about extra backup. Dealing with blood-thirsty angels, lost demons, and gold hoarding dragons was more than one man could handle alone. But was it too much to ask for said backup to be competent? His dead uncle and the dangerously curious university professor were less than ideal, given the arrival of angels that didn’t drop in to protect anyone from evil.
Comments: 58
Kudos: 55





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Deutsch available: [Das Engels-Mysterium](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28987353) by [Assan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assan/pseuds/Assan)



**Author’s Note:** Welcome to _The Angel Conundrum_ , I am so happy that you are here. This story is set after _The Arctic Incident_ , which means that Root is alive and Butler hasn't died and Artemis' father has just been rescued. Enjoy!

Many thanks to my beta reader **Skavim** and **notxreal** for the incredible help and taking the time to dig through my shortcomings! 

**Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination.

* * *

**Prologue**

Sand whirled up under his feet as he tore away from his hiding place. The scorching air burned in his lungs with every breath he took. A constant cloud of soot had formed streaky smudges on his face, ever since he had stopped wiping it away. The Major had no time for such nonsense. Every second he wasn't vigilant meant his immediate demise.

Any other person would have given up by now, accepting their fate. In fact, the human brain shuts down in desperate situations, filling the body with happy hormones and making the end less stressful. Not the Major's brain. The Major's brain refused to surrender, feeding off a seemingly never-ending will to survive.

He zoomed past the hunched creatures, shuffling around aimlessly. He left them to their fate. The wind howled in his ears. Ignoring it, together with the burning sensation in his legs, he fixed his gaze on the object in the distance, blurry in the shimmering air.

The Major hadn't slept or eaten for at least a month. This should have given him some indication that something was off. But he refused to dwell on such details. All they needed was one moment of inattentiveness. One misstep and he would end in their clutches.

He focused on avoiding the inhabitants of this place. Always on the run. Away from those animals, the kind he had never seen before in his life. Monstrous creatures as big as tigers with unblinking, ruthless eyes and lethal claws. If stopped on the street and asked to describe them, he would have chosen expressions like _humanoid predators_ or _colossal beasts of prey_. He didn't allow himself to think about such facts, though. He ran, he jumped, he rolled and he hid. And he kept alive as best as possible. He had lost his pistol, but he couldn't remember where or when. Irrelevant. He couldn't engage in a fight with them. He wouldn't.

The scratching of claws over the ground became louder. They were catching up with him. The Major gritted his teeth, forcing himself to go faster. Sweat was running down his weather-beaten forehead, but he kept his eyes trained on the massive rock in front of him. Despite his immense size, the man sprinted the last few feet and leapt on to the boulder with surprising agility. Not a second later, he felt the impact of the monster slamming into the rock.

Not allowing himself a moment of rest, he jumped off the boulder and got back on his feet in an instant. Ready for the next trap.

Someone lazily clapped. Instinctively, the Major ducked before glancing back. A bearded man in a leather jacket had appeared out of nowhere and was now sitting on the boulder with crossed legs. No, the Major corrected himself. It was not a man, but another odd creature with snow-white wings.

Peeling his gaze from the angel-like wings, the Major shot a glance around. By now the monster should have recovered.

"Please," the man held up his hands. "I am not here to harm you. Quite the opposite. Look."

The monster, unsteady on its feet after slamming into the rock came swaying towards the Major. Before it could charge once more, however, the winged man waved his hand at the creature. It turned to dust, carried away by the neverending gust of wind. The Major whipped his head around, expecting the monster to materialize again behind him. When it didn't, he turned to the gaunt man. It took the Major a few moments to find the right words. "Who are you?"

"Good question," the angel grinned. "I am the ruler of this realm. I am the King of Hell."

The Major kept a blank expression as the meaning of the words sank in. This... was Hell.

"I am Lucifer," the angel offered.

Pretending to be unfazed by this revelation the Major asked, "What do you want from me?"

Lucifer's smile became strained. He nodded towards the creatures that cowered in a distance, watching. "I am impressed by the way you dodged the yalayi for such a long time. Well done."

Lucifer wondered if the man was too far gone when the Major didn't react. The mortal was huge and muscular, yes, but he must have already been very old when he had died, judging by the short grey hair. Maybe his soul was already damaged beyond repair.

"I have a job for you. You are a bodyguard. Protect someone for me," Lucifer finally said.

The Major shook his head. "I can't leave. I…," he hesitated. He hadn't said it out loud. He knew it. Deep down, he knew he hadn't made it out of the exploding ship. But saying it… saying it was accepting it.

Lucifer sighed, casting his eyes to the cloudy sky and wiping soot from his leather jacket. "Yes, you are dead. Haven't you been paying any attention?"

The Major tried to focus his thoughts. It was hard, but it got easier once Lucifer had said it. Dead. He had died.

"You can revive me?"

"No, I can't _revive_ you. But I can make your existence bearable. How does that sound?"

The Major looked around with unfeeling eyes. Anything was better than this.

"Who do you want me to protect?"

Lucifer's grin widened. "A scholar. Shouldn't be too hard for a man of your calibre. There will be limitations, though. You are still dead, of course. You can only go among the living during the hours of the dead. You'll have to spend the rest of the time here."

He pulled a stone from his pocket, breaking it in two and handing one half to the dead man. It radiated with a faint blue hue.

"This will protect you from the yalayi. As long as you wear it."

The man nodded and pocketed the stone. "What happens, when the job is over?"

Lucifer considered it for a moment, scratching his ginger beard. "Tell you what, I am in a good mood today. If you succeed, I don't see why you shouldn't be able to move up from here."

"What if I fail?"

"Let's not find out, my friend," Lucifer said and patted the bodyguard jovially on the shoulder. "Just focus on the job."

* * *

 **A/N** : And that’s a wrap. Thanks for reading. Kudos and comments are always appreciated and will cause this author to break out in spontaneous expressive dance. 😊


	2. Chapter 1

**Author’s Note:** Welcome back to Chapter Numero Uno. Many thanks to **...** and **mentosmorii** for reviewing, I cried a little bit inside when I read them. Only happy tears, of course! Anyway, Chapter 1. Enjoy.

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl. I only own Lucifer (unless he is copyrighted by the Church…), Sebastian and the professor.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Sebastian Stampa crossed the terminal of chute E312, struggling with the official documents the officers had made him present at the gates. He stopped when a red piece of paper escaped the pile and fluttered to the ground. Picking it up, his eyes skimmed over the certificate with a proud puff of his chest. His aboveground visa.

After five years, the Board of Fairy Culture and Arts had approved his long-term project on _Medieval Coastlines throughout the Centuries_. He would be travelling the world, taking pictures and samples, studying the coastal changes and analyzing their profound impact on the fairy world.

The geologist routinely checked the battery on his tiny Fly+ camera attached to his shirt, passing through the quiet terminal. Sebastian had chosen the middle of an exams week to start his research trip, which meant no crying babies on the flight and no queues at Ground Control. He rented a pair of Hummingbird wings. It wasn't the cheapest method of transportation, but the quickest and he didn't have to be stingy on this trip. It was all funded by the Institute.

Sebastian buckled the wings on, feeling their weight on his puny shoulders, and typed his destination into the wing's navigation system. He opted for the shortest route. His travels wouldn't be audited. Even so, he wasn't interested in the panorama as long as no rocks were involved. Sebastian took off, busying his mind with the itinerary of his trip. He didn't appreciate the soft breeze of air playing with his hair nor the lush green forest underneath him. He only allowed himself a small smile when the wings dropped him at the Cliffs of The Palisades.

It had been the most sensible choice as they were close to the chutes, which meant he could get straight to work. Peeling the wings off his back, he dropped them together with his equipment at a big rock. Freed from the added weight on his shoulders, he strolled along the cliffs.

"Fascinating geology," he commented aloud, his camera picking up every uttered word.

"Very nice large-scale rifting during the break-up of Pangaea at the end of the Triassic Period." He paused, pocketing a few stones for his later studies.

The elf pushed his glasses up his nose and turned towards the crunching of stones next to him. He blinked, trying to process why he was staring at two long legs. His eyes wandered up, growing bigger by the second. A Mud Man! A cold shiver ran down Sebastian's back when he realized he wasn't shielded! He froze, unable to do anything, but stare at the creature.

The Mud Man smiled. "Hello, little one," he said in a velvety voice, reaching out for him. It was when adrenalin made Sebastian's brain kick in. He jumped up and ran. Away from the chuckling man back to his Hummingbird wings and equipment. He could do it. He had already crossed half the distance. It wasn't too far. His legs felt like lead, but he _would_ do it. His equipment was almost in reach when a sharp pain at the back of his head knocked him out.

* * *

Julius Root, fairy Commander of the Reconnaissance division of the Lower Elements Police, lit another cigar in his office. He took a puff, letting the smoke fill his mouth before he blew it out. Sighing, he turned to the mountain of folders on his desk. He was getting too old for this job, he realized, as he willed his mind to make sense of the report in his hand.

Recently some fairies had overstayed their aboveground visa. That wasn't specifically noteworthy. There were always some fairies, deciding to stay longer aboveground than their visa allowed. Being confined underground was a poor solution to the century-old problem of the Mud People invading every last bit of their territory. No, that wasn't the problem per se. The problem was that those missing fairies disappeared.

In the last seven months, fifteen fairies had not returned from their trips to the surface and could no longer be located. Civilians, just couldn't follow the rules. Root was sure they went into hiding and the responsible officers were either too dumb to find them or had been bribed. Something he should bring up at the next Council meeting. The police was losing their touch. This would have never happened during his active time. He let out a puff of smoke.

"What?" he answered his phone after the second ring.

The caller identified himself as an officer from Ground Control. "Commander, we had a situation close to E312, North America."

"Fill me in."

"Male fairy was attacked and badly wounded. He was unresponsive when we got to him, but he had a camera on him and managed to record some of the attack. The footage is already on the way to you. Will let you know if we can further interview the guy."

Root punched in the number of Ops. "Foaly, get the material ready, I am on my way!" he barked after the centaur confirmed that yes, they had gotten the camera and while it wasn't the high definition material that he would have liked, he could improve its viewability. Root stumped the cigar butt into the ashtray and lit another one, leaving his office.

Fifteen minutes later, the centaur technician, Foaly had fed the unknown's voice sample into his database without any hits. Root, in the meantime, was watching the video footage Foaly had called up on the screen in front of him. The commander cursed for the fifth time in as many minutes as he watched this elf civilian being hunted down and hit unconscious by an unknown Mud Man who didn't seem surprised to have found the fairy there. Gods, it was as if he had known where to find him. This was too familiar for Root's liking.

The picture was now showing everything upside down, the Hudson River passing underneath. Not in the plane kind of way, though, but a bird kind of way.

Root frowned and leaned closer to the screen, which only made the image grainier. "Are they flying?"

Foaly whinnied in agreement, scratching his head under his tinfoil hat. "It seems like it, Julius. I can't say for sure, but it looks as if our guy has wings of his own."

Root was too occupied with the unfolding events to reprimand the centaur for using his first name. He would cut the Ops' budget later.

Meanwhile, the pair had reached a clearing surrounded by high trees. Root's jaw went slack, the cigar butt falling out of his mouth as he watched how the perpetrator tied the elf head down to a big branch of a willow tree. The attacker stepped back, giving Root and Foaly a view of him. The centaur technician flinched and swished with his tail.

"What in the name of Frond?"

The commander gaped at the man, his eyes watering from the screen glare. The Mud Man had been flying. With huge wings attached to his back, the kind neither her nor the centaur had ever seen.

"Angel wings?" the commander muttered and decided at that moment that he needed to retire, rather sooner than later.

* * *

In the clearing, the winged man had unsheathed a knife from his waist and slid it across the elf's wrist. He ogled the red rivulet of blood flowing from the cut and brought the arm towards his lips. His teeth scraped the cut, tearing the skin even further until the blood ran into his mouth. The magic wasn't as strong, but he could still feel it invigorating his senses.

"Gentleman," he heard a rumbling voice behind him. A giant man, clad in a camouflage jacket, stepped into the clearing, followed by a smaller figure keeping in his shadows. The angel hissed and clutched his knife when he registered the kind of object the man was pointing at his head. A pistol.

The smaller figure stepped forward and lifted her hands peacefully. "We just have a few questions?" the woman called out in English with a strong lilt, nearly inaudible in the gusty wind that had picked up and tore on their clothes.

The angel didn't react and she switched to Aramaic, calling out to him. "We are not here to hurt you."

"I am going to crush your skull and rip your inside out, mortal wench. And you will thank me for putting you out of your misery before we'll burn this hovel to the ground," he snarled.

"What did he say?" the giant asked in a low voice.

The woman screwed up her face in mock indignation and pushed a loose hair strand behind her ear. "He doesn't want to talk to us. With more cursing."

Without warning, the angel charged forward, ready to make good on his promise. His attack never came as the man in the camouflage jacket shot him in the knee without batting an eye. Crumbling to the ground with a scream, the angel gave the duo a hateful stare. He dropped his head to his chest, murmuring to himself before throwing a glance back at the tree. Abandoning his loot, he spread his wings and shot into the air, disappearing behind dark clouds.

Clicking her tongue in annoyance, the woman followed the angel's flight for a moment with her eyes. Then she darted towards the hung-up elf, pulling a Swiss army knife from her pocket. She sawed at his bonds until they ripped, and staggering under the sudden weight, dropped him into the soft grass. Ignoring her partner's unapproving glare, she wrapped her silken scarf around the elf's wrist.

"He has lost a lot of blood."

"You are not the Red Cross. Concentrate on your job," he countered. She rolled her eyes and turned the elf on to his side. After a moment's hesitation, she started to pile leaves on his frame. When she was happy with the results, she stood and meeting the man's incredulous look, shrugged.

"We can't leave him in the open, can we? What if a jogger finds him before his folks do?"

The man didn't answer but gave her an impatient sign to follow him back into the woods.

* * *

In Ops, Foaly and Root had watched the whole mess unfold. Foaly, unsettled by Root's unusual silence, had readjusted his tinfoil hat several times and was now fighting the urge to paw the floor with his hooves.

Root chewed the butt of his unlit cigar, unable to decide which was worse, the fact that there were angels kidnapping elves or that there were two humans who were unfazed by it. This was bad. Really bad. And then there was another thing.

"That Mud Man," Root started and Foaly knew exactly what he was about to say. This behemoth of a man who had appeared on camera when the female had turned Mr Stampa on his side. He was huge, even for a Mud Man. Broad-shouldered. A familiar army-style haircut. Stiff craggy features. The one thing that stuck out, though…

"He seemed familiar," Root continued, leaning back in the uncomfortable chair which groaned under his weight.

"As in Butler-familiar?" Foaly asked. Succumbing to the temptation, he pawed the floor with his front hoof twice with a quiet neigh. Root nodded, still perplexed, looking at the video still of the blue eyes of the giant.

* * *

**A/N:** And that’s a wrap. I hope you enjoyed it. I love writing Root. He is so unapologetically rude, something I could never pull of in real life. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I’ll see you next time when things start to get going. Kudos and/or comments are always appreciated.


	3. Chapter 2

**Author’s Note:** It’s 1st September and Arty is turning… 32?! That’s disturbing. Anyway, Happy Birthday, Arty. Which better way to celebrate than by uploading the next chapter with Artemis actually in it, being the obnoxious genius that he is? Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl. I only own the angels (can I own angels? That would be cool…) and the professor.

* * *

**Chapter** **2**

_A year ago, ..._

_The small village in the mountains had long given up. First, it had been one villager, who hadn't come back from picking mushrooms in the forest, their lonely basket left between the wild bushes. The search teams had ventured out day after day. Even so, their calls had remained unanswered. A few weeks later another villager had gone missing, this time only leaving a red scarf behind. And they had kept looking for them. They had searched at day and barricaded themselves in their little colourful houses at night. But when the first child had disappeared and silence had settled over the streets, they had known. They had known there would be no mercy and nowhere to run._

_They prayed. They always prayed for someone to protect them. How tragic that they never dared to venture further into the mountainous caves outside of their settlement. In their lore, they believed it was the entrance to Hell. It wasn't the entrance to Hell, but a hell nonetheless._

_Ananiel hid in the back of the cave as far away as possible from the entrance, turning away from the slightest glimpse of light that might enter. His eyes watered when he turned to look at the large male, squatting next to the corpses. The man had glared at Ananiel ever since he had arrived, his red glowing eyes burning with unspoken hatred. Except any curses were silenced by a piece of cloth in his mouth and any attacks prevented by the ties around his hands and legs. How long had they kept him there? Ananiel couldn't remember. Who cared? It was just a filthy demon._

_Ananiel was no demon. He was an angel. An angel, who had been flying up above in Heaven in the glory days of Old. Back when his golden wings had been glinting in the sun and the wind had been playing with his ash-blond hair. He had never been God's favourite, but he had been respected. That had been enough. That's what he had been telling himself the last 1000 years and now he believed it. In truth, he had been desperate to become God's favourite. He had volunteered to serve justice among the sinful mortal children._

_The first place they had landed, many centuries ago, had been wonderful too. Humans, sacrificing themselves, treating them with the respect they deserved. And it had always been sunny. The glory days._ _Except now, he was stuck on a plane of existence that robbed him of his powers the longer he stayed. He was the oldest remaining Angel of God and if someone deserved to return home it should have been him, he thought, sucking on the neck of the empty human shell in his arms._

_The demon kept staring at him._ _Ananiel_ _snarled and threw the body at him. Missing him, it landed on the ever-growing pile of human remains instead. With a huff, the angel pulled his stained tunic closer around his shoulders, the cold crawling under his skin._ _The flutter of wings outside the cave woke him from his daydreams. He looked over his shoulder, squinting at Nuriel. His brother had left only a few hours ago. The angel before him, however, had changed. The lines on his face had vanished and his youthful face was alert. The midnight blue wings on his back were radiating. Ananiel sat up, speechless. Seeing his amazement, Nuriel smiled. "You see it too, brother? The change? I am not imagining it?"_

_"How is this possible?"_

_"I have made a most interesting discovery." He motioned to the sack, he had been carrying and let it drop to the ground. It moved._ _Ananiel frowned._ _A terrified and shaking child emerged, although it looked strange for a child with its pointed ears._

_Nuriel gave the older angel an account of his nightly discovery while he had hunted in the forest. It didn't happen often that a human soul got lost in the woods, especially after dark. These days, they barricaded themselves in their little huts as the sun began to set. Today, he had been lucky. No. He had been blessed. The two little creatures had been chatting away like children on a trip. They hadn't seen him coming._

He had dealt with the male first, breaking his neck _like a twig before he had turned to the female and kicked her in the knee. There had been an audible crunch and she had fallen down sobbing. Convinced that she wouldn't run away, he had drunk from the male's small body, but hadn't expected much refreshment from it. He had planned to kill the other one as well and break into one of the huts that night. But as soon as he had finished the thought, he had felt a tingling in his wings, filling him like the warm embrace of a lover. As he drank, the tingling had started to spread, from his wings to his head and down his body, rushing through his veins. When the body had slipped lifelessly to the ground, Nuriel's vision was sharper than ever before, the colours so much more vibrant._

 _Nuriel smiled_ as he finished his account _. "I had no idea the small folk still existed. I was of the impression the mortals had killed them centuries ago. Their blood, brother... It's the most powerful blood I have ever tasted."_

_The creature on the floor whimpered. "P-please," she begged between sobs. "Please d-don't kill me."_

_Ananiel ignored her pleas and got up from his stone cot. Nuriel stopped him, though. "Wait, brother."_

_The angel hissed in protest, but Nuriel dropped to his knees to look the small woman in the eye. He smiled. Once upon a time, his smile could have charmed any living creature. Today, it was only enough to calm the terrified woman._

_"Are there more of you? Tell me and you will go free, little one."_

_The dark man in the back made a noise. The elf flinched as his eyes glowed red and he shook his head. She swallowed. The pain in her leg had made her faint earlier. Then she had woken up in this cave. Jason was gone, maybe he managed to escape. The blood she saw on her attacker's face told her otherwise, but she couldn't focus on that right now. What did he say? He would let her live? Maybe, he would let her go. If she got back to the chutes before them, she could warn her people. Wasn't it her duty as a citizen to protect her people?_

_She nodded. "We, eh, we got here with the Shuttle Express. In the stone circle, close by. Not far from here."_

_Nuriel nodded, he knew where that stone circle was. And now he knew how to get more magical blood as well. He smiled at her._

_"Thank you. You have helped us a lot, little one."_

_He straightened and gave Ananiel a nod. "Now, you can feed, brother," he said graciously and left the cave, the screams of agony_ and fear echoing behind him as he walked away _._

* * *

After filling Captain Kelp and Short in, Root decided against his better judgement to contact the Mud Boy. He would have preferred to keep this underground, so to speak. But when Holly, too, had mentioned the immense likeness of the giant man to Butler, he had to know. He had sent the video footage to Artemis Fowl II, while he ordered Foaly to run checks on the three suspects, the details already running through the centaur's face recognition databases.

In the meantime, Root studied both Artemis and Butler on his screen underground as they sat in the office of Fowl Manor and watched the video. When they got to the interesting bit, Butler drew in a sharp breath and even Artemis' eyebrows shot up.

"You know this man?" Root asked impatiently.

Artemis nodded. "Well–," he started but Root's patience had already been exhausted three days ago, so he snapped: "Well what? Spit it out, will you?"

Instead of Artemis, Butler answered. "This man looks like my uncle. But that is impossible."

"And why is that?"

"My uncle died when the Fowl Star was attacked by the Russian Mafia. I identified his body."

Root ground his teeth. Couldn't anything be easy today? Artemis leaned closer to the screen, going back over one particular scene. They had no image available as the camera was covered by the angel but he had heard a murmur in the background.

"Do you hear that? Is the Major talking?"

Foaly's fingers flew over the keyboard. Then he played the processed audio track again.

_"Stay back, Massetti."_

A name. Now, this was something. Foaly fed the name to his system. It came back with several hits. He further narrowed down the search, feeding one of the video stills into the search parameters. Seconds later he made a triumphant whinny. "Good news, I found the woman!"

He uploaded a photo of the woman to the screen. "Dr Sofia Massetti. Professor at the NYU at the Department of Italian Studies. That was too easy," he stated confidently, overplaying his dismay over missing this detail in the first place.

"Oh yeah? Who is the guy then?" Root asked sharply, which earned him a dirty look from the centaur, who went back to his computer.

Root turned to the picture of the woman. She was every bit the university professor with a set of glasses and her dark hair tied back in a bun. He could feel a headache building up. A dead man walking and a university professor? How did they go together?

Artemis hadn't said anything for a while, too absorbed in his phone and the NYU website. "Professor Massetti gives indeed several courses in _Italian Studies_. She currently teaches a lecture on Dante's _Divina Commedia,_ " he eventually said.

Holly frowned. "So?"

"This woman is our best shot at the moment," he said smugly. "Which better way to find out more about her than infiltrating her course? I am sure it won't be intellectually challenging, but I am willing to sacrifice my precious time on this task."

Trouble furrowed his brows. "Listen Mu– Fowl, this might be a game for you, but real lives were and are at risk here. These people might set a trap, by the Gods, they might be all working for the other side."

Trouble's statement hanging in the air, Artemis straightened in his seat.

"I can assure you, Captain, I am fully aware of the situation and the dangers. However, you will need my help in this stakeout, unless you want to go and sit in her lecture."

Trouble kept silent, although his expression spoke volumes. Root sighed. This was far from perfect, but he had no other idea. The boy was right, the woman was their only clue. Might as well check it out.

"Fine," he grunted. "Find out more if you can. But no contact! And be subtle about it. The last thing we need is them knowing we are investigating them."

Root turned to Holly and Trouble.

"Suspend all travel aboveground," he ordered. "As long as we don't know what we are dealing with, I don't want any fairies wandering about. No more casualties, you hear me?"

The two captains nodded grimly.

"Good. Holly, I want you to interview our elf. If he is responsive. Find out, if he can help us. Anything, he has seen or heard, which we have missed on the tape. Trouble go to E314. Get ready for an aboveground mission if the need arises. That's all for now. I want updates as soon as."

Artemis gave a short nod and disconnected the call, instructing Butler to prepare for the trip to New York. Ever the professional, Butler went to work, but the deep frown on his forehead couldn't hide his concern. Not so much about going to New York, although that too made him antsy. Big city, many opportunities: a nightmare for any bodyguard. No, the one thing occupying his thoughts was his uncle.

He had seen his corpse in the morgue. Hadn't he? Yes. It had to have been him. The Major wasn't a man that could easily be mistaken for another. And even if he'd identified the wrong body, his uncle had still gone missing when the Fowl Star had sunk. Had he survived, why wouldn't his uncle contact him afterwards? It was completely against his nature. He was a Butler through and through, he always followed protocol. Butler wondered if his uncle had followed another agenda all along.

He closed his eyes, replaying the video in his mind. Despite the events of the last few years and all that he had seen, nothing could have prepared him for this. The kidnapped fairy, hung on a tree only to be rescued by an unknown woman and the Major. If it was him. The winged man seemed normal enough in comparison if you ignored the wings on his back. The woman, a university professor, was just as non-descriptive. Her whole appearance was low-key as far as he could tell. Hardly any makeup, plain clothes, heed me no attention, I am nobody, thank you very much. Butler's expression darkened. If this man was his uncle and they had been working together, he would have taught her how not to attract any attention.

Then there was the whole angel shooting thing. His uncle had looked like he had never done anything else. He hadn't even been surprised about seeing an elf. Neither had the woman. The longer Butler thought about it, the more questions he had! And the unanswered questions kept him awake until late at night when he was in his bedroom, cleaning his Sig Sauer.

His uncle and the woman had acted honourable towards the elf. But that could have been part of their plan. Butler reassembled his pistol, shuddering at the thought that his uncle might be working for the other side. That he might have to go against family. He didn't want to find out who would win such a fight.

* * *

The sound of taxi drivers leaning on their horns drifted through the green sanctuary of Washington Square Park. Dr Sofia Massetti didn't notice it. She was sitting on her usual bench and to the uninformed onlooker, she'd look like any other university professor going through her lecture notes. No one could suspect what she was really working on.

AShe glanced down at the copy of The Book of Enoch in her lap. She'd found it in the Manuscripts and Archives Division of the New York Public Library, she had spent every free minute transcribing and translating the text from Old Aramaic. There had been translations, of course. But she doubted any translator had read the text as an account of true events. The scripture was the closest thing to a depiction of angels, their modus operandi, and beliefs. No, she had to have the original. The translation was nearly done now, but still, she was none the wiser.

Lucifer had suggested stealing it, which she had refused. No, illegal would have called attention to their efforts. That's what she had told him. The truth was that she didn't want him looking over her shoulder whenever he liked. She'd rather go the long and hard route, she thought, while frowning at the text as if it would reveal its secrets that way. The information was there, she just overlooked something. If only–

Sofia jumped when somebody flopped down next to her. She slipped her notes between her lecture cards but smiled as she looked up at the tall woman next to her.

"'Sup?" the woman said and motioned to Sofia's documents. "Still getting stage fright?"

"Technically, it's not even my field of studies, Sam."

Sam's anger bubbled to the surface like an active volcano. " _T_ _echnically_ they are also not paying you for all your work. You shouldn't spend so much time on the lectures."

"I applied for the position," Sofia said meekly.

Sam lifted her golden-brown hand and made a dismissive sound. "Three years ago, Sofia. You are past the probation period by now. Time to grow a pair."

Sofia sighed and shot her friend a dark look. "I hate it when you are right."

"I know. I'm fabulous," she grinned. "Have you gotten the Department's mail about the _funded_ hiking trip to the Alps in December? It'll be close to the Italian border."

Sofia wrinkled her nose. "Hiking? I don't think so, Sam."

"Woman, listen. We'll go, but our hiking gear will get lost. Oh no! Now we can't join. But we are already in Italy. What to do? I'm glad you asked. We'll rent a car, drive around Italy and do the touristy bits until it's socially acceptable to drink wine," she explained patiently.

Wine? That rang a bell. She wasn't sure if it was the bottle, she had left on the stack of books last night or something she had read in one. She decided to finish one and check on the other.

"That's genius!"

Sam grinned. "Is that a yes?"

"Where do I sign up?"

"Great, I'll let the Committee know. I also have a little file on the alternative itinerary. I'll send it to you later. You are having dinner with me later?"

Sofia nodded, trying to contain her excitement. She wished she could run straight to the library, but she needed to get to her lecture. Like, five minutes ago. Cursing, she packed her papers and took off in a run.

Ten minutes later she greeted her class in her breathless sing-sang voice, opening the presentation on a laptop. A hush fell over the lecture hall as the students stared at the black and white painting she projected on the wall.

"Today, we'll enter the Second Circle of Hell," she said and gave a small pause for effect. She enjoyed these moments immensely. "Reserved for those, overcome by lust."

Someone whistled and the class broke out laughing. Sofia smiled.

"Now, that I have got everyone's attention, let's begin our descent into proper Hell."

Sofia's class was once described by one of her colleagues as "half lecture, half meeting up for a tea party". The way she explained Dante's hell made it look like an actual exciting and fun place. One year, students had created an open poll "Which circle of hell would you rather end up?". The next year, half the students had dressed up as Satan for Halloween. That had backfired as it drove the librarian mad. She had thought the devil had come for her. After that year, students weren't allowed to dress up as Satan anymore and the Dean had to seriously consider if Dr Massetti's presentation of the given material wasn't a little bit too... eager. Regardless, her Dante lecture was one of the most popular ones on campus, two years in a row. Today, she was engaged in a lively discussion about if Francesca and Paolo deserved to be in Hell because of their adultery. Most of the young women in her class thought it was unfair that they should be punished for their love, while most of the male students didn't care.

Sofia half-listened amusedly, half moderated her class's discussion when a young man raised his hand.

"Professor, what's your opinion on the matter?"

Taking by surprise, she squinted up at the pale face of the student. He looked too young to be a university student. Then again, the kids starting university were getting younger and younger these days. She couldn't remember his name or if she had ever seen him before in one of her lectures. She did have many students, though. Most of them faded into obscurity, once the semester was over.

The students were waiting for her answer. She smiled sheepishly.

"I would lie if I said I didn't root for the love couple." Some students sighed happily. "But it's not their love that is dooming them to the Second Circle," she continued.

"They were punished for their adultery, yes. The reason why they are stuck in it is that they are not, what's the right word, own up to their adultery. They blame everyone and everything but never themselves. And that's why they will never find rest and peace, no matter how great their love is."

Her class was disappointed, so Sofia went to her laptop and opened a file titled 'Treats'. "Don't worry, though. As Dante used real people in his work, I can tell you exactly what happened with the cuckold. Giovanni Malatesta famously killed his wife and lover when he caught them in flagranti. He was known throughout Italy as _El insaziabile_ for his unstoppable hunger for anything edible. He weighed more than 500 pounds."

Gasps in the lecture hall.

"So, while he never paid for the murder, he would have ended up in the Circle of Hell reserved for the gluttonous souls. Which we will be discussing in our next lecture," she said, bending over her laptop to hide her smile from her students' table-rapping.

* * *

 **A/N:** I love Dante. Is it obvious? Haha. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Until next time.


	4. Chapter 3

**Author’s Note:** Hello, my beautiful readers. Are you having better weather than the grey skies I have to look at from my window at the moment? If not, this chapter will hopefully brighten your day.

Many thanks to **MarshlandProfessor** for the lovely review and kudos as well as **Lalamoor** and **WhispersOfTheDark** and my lovely mysterious guests for the kudos. You made my day. 😊

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl. I only own the angels (I haven’t been struck by lightning, so this is a good sign in my books) and the professor. And Barney, the Blueberry Man.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

_15 years ago, …_

_The Vatican Apostolic Archive didn't hire anyone. You needed contacts. Thankfully, it had been the Prefect who had suggested a student for the filing of some old documents nobody had wanted to do for years. Now there was an unconquerable mountain of scripts, books and old pieces of parchment that had to be sorted. No job for a Prefect. They had asked around for some eager high school students with an understanding of Latin, looking for a CV upgrade. Sofia Massetti would have never been chosen if it hadn't been for her uncle, though. Her mother's brother had recommended her. She still had to apply but her interview had been surprisingly informal. The Prefect, a portly man, who always seemed to smile had invited her to the Archive. He had shown her around and outlined her position over sweet polenta cake in his office filled with religious paintings._

_And now she was spending her summer in the Archive under the Holy See, surrounded by bookshelves and the smell of books in different stages of decay. Sofia, however, had much bigger plans than any intern before her. Oh, she would file the documents, but she would also use the opportunity to do some research of her own. Not with the Holy See knowing. They weren't known to part with their wisdom. Sofia had come up with a strategy. You had to work faster than anybody expected, while only doing enough whenever anybody checked. This way, she could unravel the secrets of the Vatican's Secret Archive._

_The Latin texts were easy. Sofia had rolled her eyes at the same time as she got hiccups. The documents proving that Pope John Paul I. had been poisoned by strychnine in his coffee in 1978 hadn't even been encrypted. Writing reports in Latin wasn't safe if literally, everybody around you was able to read and/or speak it. When the summer was over, the documents were filed and Sofia had absorbed some of the secrets of The Vatican's Secret Archive. But she was far from done. This was just the first stage, as far as she was concerned. She had to up her game since the texts in Aramaic and Hebrew seemed to present some very interesting content. The only natural conclusion to the problem was to study Ancient Languages after finishing school and to fight her way through their grammar, script and vocabulary. Three years later she started her MA and got in contact with the Prefect again. He was more than happy to let her write her dissertation on something related to the Vatican. He believed the surroundings of the Holy See had moved her. They had, but not in the way, he had imagined. Sofia had big ambitions. And if everything went according to her plans she would leave this place a whole lot wiser._

* * *

Hospitals gave Captain Holly Short the creeps. It was too… clean and sterile. So lifeless. Besides, she never went to a hospital for any enjoyable events. It was always bad news. Like one of her colleagues, nearly blown to smithereens or her mother, wasting away from radiation. Holly bent over the clipboard, trying to block out the harsh whiteness of the whole place and the overpowering smell of disinfectant.

Standing outside of Sebastian's hospital room, she went through his medical report. It listed all the injuries and the amount of magic that had been needed to close the wounds. The nurse had said he was ready to be questioned, but the man in the hospital bed didn't look like he would wake up anytime soon. Gazing through the window, her eyes fell on the elf. His angular face was angular and his straight blonde hair looked like it was cut by his mother. In fact, she'd bet her whole paycheck on it. Nothing was sticking out. If she had met him on the street, she might have fallen asleep snoring, he looked so bland. The new setting together with the troubled expression on his face, changed all that, though. Holly suppressed a shudder. From what she had seen in the video footage, he was not only beaten up pretty badly but then hung upside down from a tree.

The nurse inside the room motioned her to come inside. Holly entered, getting a closer look at the patient. He wasn't asleep after all, she realized. His eyes were only half-closed, staring straight ahead. Holly cleared her throat. She had no idea why it was her task to interview this man Root had insisted she be the one to interview the victim. Maybe he'd assumed she'd be able to relate to him because of the whole hostage thing. Sure, she had a similar experience, but at least Artemis hadn't tortured her. Much.

Sebastian looked up, his blank expression unchanged as he waited for her to make the first move.

"I am Captain Short," she introduced herself. "I was wondering if you could answer a few questions? About your recent, ah, encounter?"

The elf was quiet for a long minute before giving her a short nod. Holly sat down on the chair next to him and pushed a few buttons on her helmet to record the interview.

"Could you tell me in your own words what happened when you were doing your… research?"

Again, it took him a while to answer as if he was listening through a thick wall of fog. He went through his preparations and journey aboveground, reciting it like a poem. His narration became choppier and choppier, however, the closer he got to the moment he was attacked by the angel. Eventually, he stopped.

"You weren't running hot, I take it?" Holly asked.

Sebastian snorted as a humourless smile tugged at his lips. "Of course not, Captain. I am a geologist. It took me five years to get a visa for this project. I submitted my holiday visa application three years ago."

Holly winced. The Ritual politics for fairies without high-risk jobs was harsh. Waiting ten years to get an aboveground visa wasn't uncommon.

"I know this can't be easy for you, but we need your help. There's only a few more questions to go. We have quite a bit of video footage from your camera. But when you were, eh, when the attacker hung you up on that tree… Is there anything you can remember from that moment onwards?"

Sebastian's eyes dropped to his healed wrist and swallowed hard before nodding. "He… cut my wrist. He had a knife."What happened then?"

A shiver ran across the elf's body and the colour drained from his cheeks. "He… drank my blood," he whispered.

"Are you sure?" A cold knot started to form in her stomach in anticipation of the elf's next word.

He nodded and then, for the first time, looked Holly straight in the eyes.

"I could feel how my blood was leaving my body. And it–" he choked. "It made me _happy_."

* * *

Students were rushing out of the lecture hall as if chased by dogs. Nobody wanted to stay longer at university on a Friday than absolutely necessary. Sam would have loved to join them. One glance down the lecture hall, though, made her enter the room to save her friend from some overzealous students, bombarding her with their questions.

"Professor, your _appointment_ is waiting?"

Sofia shot her a relieved look and apologizing to her students, grabbed the small paper cup Sam handed her.

"Double, although I shouldn't encourage your addiction," she told her, pushing her up the stairs.

Sofia smiled, downing the espresso in one go. "You are a lifesaver. I was already getting a headache."

Sam nodded, her black curly hair bouncing up and down. "Exactly my point. Food?"

As if on cue, Sofia's stomach growled with hunger. "Lots of it."

"There is this new place on 2nd Avenue, wine list longer than my arm. So, you'll have to choose," Sam told her.

"Just don't let me get drunk. I really need to get some work done tonight."

"It's Friday!" Sam protested, but Sofia shrugged, trying to push some loose strands of her unruly hair behind her ear, mumbling a half-hearted apology.

"You do realize you are pushing me into the arms of complete strangers with your negligence, don't you? Do you think I want all these free drinks and unsolicited calls? Do you _want_ me to suffer?"

Oblivious to the scrutinizing look of a boy, packing his folders into a leather briefcase they left the building, Sofia's laughter drowned out by the traffic on the street.

* * *

Once Butler had dropped him off the expensive hotel they were staying at, Artemis had uploaded the video footage of the iris-cam on his laptop. Ready to analyse the content in earnest. He had gotten an insight into the professor's character in the lecture hall. Now he could confirm his assumptions.

Butler was busy shadowing their target person after Artemis had assured his bodyguard that he wouldn't leave the hotel on his own. Artemis scoffed. As if he would be caught dead, walking New York doing the touristy stuff. For one thing, it was August, way too hot. He had no desire getting a sunburn nor did he care for all those people outside. He frowned at the very thought before turning his attention back to his computer screen. Surely, he could find a more pleasant and useful use for his time.

He had taken some notes during the lecture. Not on the subject matter. He knew not only Dante's _Inferno_ from beginning to end, but he had also read every possible paper on the matter and had published one of his own titled _Medieval Fear of Death in Dante's Florence_. The lecture had been basic. He had no doubt that this woman knew what she was talking about, but if the audience had the brain capacity of kindergarteners… then there was no reason teaching in the first place. It must be quite depressing, he thought, if you had to work to earn money. Sitting on the edge of an expensive armchair, he fast-forwarded to the end of the lecture to confirm a theory.

_"I would lie if I said I didn't root for the love couple."_

Artemis sighed. He would have enjoyed a proper challenge, but this woman was too easy to read. He answered his phone on the second ring. "Good evening, Commander."

"What can you tell me?" he heard the bark from the other side. Ever the charmer.

"I can say with certainty that the quality of university teaching has taken a down-turn for the worse. To think this is deemed sufficient to earn a degr–"

"About the woman, Fowl!" Root growled.

Artemis smirked. "Ah, yes. The woman. To be fair, anyone could have done this lecture. The benchmark was set extremely low. But," he added before Root could interrupt, "she is a professor. That being said, she is clearly lacking a fully developed analytical approach to the source material or any academic discipline for that matter. A ridiculous highly emotional creature to be sure. I will be reading her thesis, although I doubt it will change my opinion of her much."

Root wasn't satisfied. "What does it mean for her involvement in the current affair, though?"

"Well," Artemis mused. "Given my experience in the afternoon, I'd say her involvement is completely idealistic. Believing in a higher cause, for sure. Which only lines up with my initial presumption, seeing that she performed first aid and tried to hide the elf. Does this answer your question, Commander?"

Root still wasn't appeased. They had established her character as probably not threatening but that didn't explain _why_ she was involved in the first place. No, it wouldn't do. He let out a heavy sigh.

"I'm going to send Captain Kelp up. I want her questioned. Squeeze all the information out of her."

Artemis leaned back in his armchair, flicking through the professor's thesis after texting Butler to _invite_ their guest to the hotel. Better be prepared for some small talk.

* * *

The two women left the restaurant, arm in arm, laughing out loud when the doors closed behind them.

"You should have seen his face. He was like 'I know everything about wine, Missy' and you were like 'Yeah? But this ain't no Cab, dude.'" Sam laughed, imitating Sofia with a thick Bronx accent.

"I wish I had said it like that."

"I'm telling you; you can always save me from any fake Cabernet, trying to get me to his house," Sam said.

Sofia grinned. "Are we still talking about wine? Because you are discriminating against Cabs. Anyway, I really need to go."

She checked her phone. It was already 5 pm. The night guards were about to start their shifts. Sam guessed what she was thinking and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "You taking your night guard home tonight?"

"He is not my night guard. I am bribing him."

"You know what they say. Love goes through the stomach. I bet he wouldn't mind."

Sofia rolled her eyes, hugging the other woman. "Take care. Don't get into trouble. And text me if you climb into anyone's car tonight."

"How about _you_ get into the car with some mysterious stranger?"

"In your dreams," she laughed and headed for the bakery next to the library, buying half a dozen doughnuts. As expected, the night guard on shift had settled in his chair, when she handed him the baked goods. He lifted the lid and sniffed appreciatively.

"Blueberry?"

"One day you'll turn into a blueberry yourself, Barney," Sofia joked, snatching one out of the box before he could close the lid. "Next time, I'll get the chocolate ones."

"Don't you dare," he scowled at her as she bit into her doughnut and crossed the long hall. The sight of wooden reading tables and endless rows of bookshelves used to fill her with awe. Now, twenty years later and after spending most of her life in libraries, she had to fight the urge to take off her shoes and get cosy under the opulently painted ceiling.

It was late, but that didn't bother her much. After working for over a year on the same document, Sofia had struck a deal with the library's night guards. They would ignore her when closing the library and she would bring boxes of indulgently filled doughnuts.

Sofia licked the sugar coating from her fingers with a sigh. Time to get to work. Opening the tome, the smell of old books tickled her nose. Sam's comment in the afternoon had made her wonder if the clue had been under her nose all along. After such a long time without any useful results, she should have thought of looking at the material in a different light. She stopped at the page she had marked in her notes.

_And all desirable trees and vines shall be planted on the Earth: and the vine which they plant thereon shall yield wine in abundance, and as for all the seed which is sown thereon each measure shall bear a thousand olives._

Sofia frowned, reading the passage again. She had thought it meant that angels wouldn't have to worry about food or drink. What if wine and olives were metaphors? She scribbled on her pad and paused. Metaphors for what? She tried to think of possible meanings for wine. Blood? That would explain why the angels drank their victim's blood. She searched for another passage, she remembered having read and translated about food and drink. With the metaphors in mind, she reread the text.

_And the wine will be drunk and will bestow the power of the Divine all. And the Divine will harvest and divide and any of it that is left over and grows old is to be considered contaminated._

Drink the blood… eat the… what were olives supposed to be? Wisdom? Peace? Consuming wisdom? But if so, whose? Destroy peace on earth? It made no sense to her. Sofia groaned. She could have sworn she had it. Scratching her head, she opened the bun at the back of her neck. She massaged her scalp, willing the throbbing headache to the back of her mind. It would be a long night.

* * *

Butler was sitting in the darkened car about to give up on the chewy pretzel he had bought earlier. The salted pastry had been the safer option to bring to the stakeout, but it was beyond him how people chose to chomp on such stodgy food.

He had spent the last three hours parked in front of the library, observing the parking space ever since Dr Massetti had entered the building. The bodyguard had planned to wait until she came out of the library to "pick her up". But the library had closed and he hadn't seen her leave. What was she doing there? Did she sleep in the library? He was sure academics had to sleep in their own beds. Artemis had fallen asleep at his desk occasionally, but his study was more comfortable than a dusty public library.

Butler checked the small screen that was paired with the library's lax security system. It had taken him barely ten minutes to hack it. He moved between the cameras. First the ones at the main entrance with the two flanking stone lions in front of it. Nothing. Then the footage from inside the library. The building was deserted. The only exception was the napping security guard and the woman sitting at her table. It was getting late. Trouble Kelp had already arrived at the hotel and he didn't want to leave him too long alone with Artemis. He feared for the elf. The discreet electronic clock on the car's dashboard changed once more. He'd give the professor another five minutes, before going in. Butler sank deeper into his seat, giving all cameras another check when he noticed movement by the windows.

* * *

**A/N** : And that’s us for today. Thank you so much for reading. Until next time with some much needed Butler action, hehe.


	5. Chapter 4

**Author’s Note:** Hello, my beautiful readers. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping… The perfect day to post a chapter set at a dark night with a monstrous angel and a lethal bodyguard to fight him off, right? Right.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Many thanks to **TitaniumBlossom** for the lovely reviews and kudos. It was great to read your reactions, I felt like I was looking over your shoulders, while you read. In a less creepy way, of course.

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl. I only own the angels (the bad ones with a love for blood) and the professor, who started as a snoopy college student.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

_10 years ago, …_

_As an employee of the Vatican (, albeit one that was paid a fraction compared to the more experienced clergy), Sofia had the keys to the Archive and didn't need to file long forms for every single manuscript she wanted to look at. Which was helpful since the documents she was interested in weren't available unless the Pope himself signed the request. This way she was free to roam the endless corridors with cryptically labelled shelving units and filing cabinets, pulling out whichever script she fancied and sinking her teeth into the Vatican's best-kept secrets._

_The documents in Hebrew had been underwhelming. Interesting, but depressing. No surprise there, she had taken the history courses in university after all. She understood the meanings of the documents, but they didn't lift her spirits._

_The Aramaic texts, however, had sent her on the right path. They talked about divine beings, angels, devils and the big power struggle. It had been an old scroll. Chapped on the sides, the writing faded. Written in Old Aramaic, which had also taken her twice as long to decipher. There were still some parts she couldn't quite grasp, but the general impression she got was of an entity trapped somewhere in the Vatican itself. The word that popped up more than once was shedim._ Demon _._

_Sofia obsessed over the scroll, studying it for days on end to uncover its every secret. She worked tirelessly until, finally, she found it. A clue indicating the creature's location. She was too consumed with the mystery than to consider what her discovery might imply. Her preparations that fateful night became only a vague memory, replaced by the overwhelming need to find him._

_Entering St. Peter's Basilica through a side door, Sofia switched her torch on. The dim light hardly kept the darkness at bay, but it was still a welcome ally, while she snooped around in the greatest Christian church. She flitted past the gigantic statues, their eyes following her disapprovingly. She shuddered, avoiding the stares._

_"I am exploring," she whispered to the glaring St. Veronica, who held up a veil with an equally indignant face of Christ on it._

_Sofia shivered, quickening her steps. The document had talked about the Altar of St. Michael the Archangel, which wasn't hard to find. As she approached, she felt the piercing gaze of the painted angel on her. No surprise. After all, he had defeated the devil, if the scripts were to be believed._

_From her research, she knew the painting had been exchanged a few hundred years ago, so the entity could have never been placed into it. It had to be in the altar itself._

_Climbing the few steps to the altar, she touched the cold marble with sweaty fingers and felt around the ornate carvings. While the document had given some instructions, the exact location had remained a mystery. Wouldn't want to make it too easy, would we?_

_She walked around it. Once. Twice. Nothing. Sofia dropped on all fours. But all looked the same. The decorations were as immaculate as from any other angle. Her fingers retraced the swirls and veins winding along the altar, stopping at one tendril in the centre of the altarpiece. That was different. Rougher than the rest and less cold. It wasn't made of marble but of wood! She carefully picked at the altarpiece until it loosened. The false piece fell into her hand, revealing its hollow inner surface and its hidden content. Holding it up, she let out a disappointed huff. Jewellery. A ring with a dark stone in the middle. No inscriptions either._

_Sofia turned her attention back to the allowed wooden piece. She turned it around, scratching her finger on its sharp edges. A few drops of blood ran down her finger to stain the wood. Cursing under her breath, she let the piece and ring fall into her lap and brought her bleeding finger to her lips. There we go, she thought, getting injured on the first real adventure for wisdom. What a waste of time._

_She was about to leave when her fingers brushed against the ring. Recoiling from the sudden heat, she jumped up. The ring fell out of her lap, rolling a few feet away. Smoke began to bellow around it. Had it all been a ruse? Had the Prefect been on her case the whole time? Sofia spun around, expecting his round face behind her, but she was alone._

_Meanwhile, the smoke started to become denser and began to morph. Sofia's eyes grew to the size of saucers when she turned and spotted a human form beginning to solidify in the fading smoke. She gaped at the sight of the kneeling scraggy man. He stood, every bony limb pronounced against the brilliant white wings, drooping from his shoulders. Not bothered with covering his nakedness, he faced her, his pitch-black eyes boring into hers. And finally, she screamed._

* * *

The night guards had closed the library hours ago, the ceiling lights switched off with the turning of the key. But the scratching of a pencil and the turning of pages betrayed the illusion of a deserted building. And so did one solitary source of light from a brass reading lamp, illuminating Sofia in a warm yellow halo.

She had gone back and forth between chapters and passages for the past three hours. Now the words on the pages were starting to jump and become blurry. Still, it wouldn't come to her. Yawning unabashedly, she went back to the first passage.

" _Shall yield wine in abundance_ ," she read under her breath and stopped. If the wine referred to blood, then–

"Then wouldn't the vines be living creatures from which to draw the blood?" she completed her thoughts, her eyes widening. She went through her notes, chiding herself for missing such a simple detail. But what kind of creatures were they talking about?

And the wine will be drunk and will bestow the power of the Divine all.

Wine was the blood. About right, the angels had been drinking that in the past few hundred years. But no. Something wasn't right about that. Something bugged her about the whole passage.

Any of it that is left over and grows old is to be considered contaminated.

Sofia chewed on her pencil. Anything that grows old. The angels had been preying on humans, but recently they had attacked more and more fairies. She straightened in the uncomfortable wooden chair of the library, the bones in her back popping.

Fairies did grow old but at a much slower rate than humans. Or so Lucifer had claimed. What if the angels had been targeting the wrong people altogether? And the metaphors were pointing towards fairies? She grabbed her phone and pushed the buttons with shaking fingers before sending her message to the Major. This might be the breakthrough!

Somewhere in the library, a chair scraped over the ground. Sofia jerked and slammed the tome shut, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Her hand flew to her chest and the spot of Lucifer's silly stone, she was supposed to be wearing at all times. Which she usually forgot. Like today. Merda.

She grabbed her notes and phone and slipped them into the pocket of her dress. Rounding a bookshelf, she stepped tentatively into the hall. She squinted at her surroundings, but the scarce light from the street couldn't disperse the shadows. The best place for an attack on an unprepared victim.

Sofia bit her lip. She had taken shooting classes. After a year she managed to hit half of her rounds somewhere on the shooting targets. Which was useless as she wasn't wearing her pistol. The Major's order to pick up Muay Thai made a lot of sense now.

Tiptoeing down the hall, she kept close to the reading tables. If needed, she'd dive under the tables for cover.

"Barney?" Sofia whispered, the faint rustle of clothes making her jump. It wasn't Barney, which she only realized when the ruffling of feathers was next to her.

She spun towards the noise, a sharp burning sensation spreading through her body. Sofia let out a pained sound, pushing her attacker away. Dropping to the floor, she scrambled under a table, getting as much space between herself and the angel. Any other coherent thought evaporated as the pain clamped on her brain like a leech. Instinctively she reached out for the source of her pain. It was too dark to see anything, but she felt a handle sticking out of her side. Someone had stabbed her.

Adrenaline shot through her veins and black spots began dancing in front of her eyes. Her breath came out in huffs. Was she supposed to leave it in or take it out straight away? This wasn't right. Knives weren't supposed to stick out of your body. She wrapped her trembling fingers around the hilt and pulled the blade out in one swift motion. Some small part of her brain remembered then that this had not been the cleverest idea, while the blood began to flow from her side. She let out a whimper, trying to crawl further back. From far away, she heard voices. Thumping. A shout. An object connecting with something solid.

Holding her side, she panted, blood oozing over her hand. If she hadn't been bleeding to death, she might have rolled her eyes at herself. She might have promised herself to do it according to protocol next time. Actually do the Muay Thai classes. She might have thought of the Major receiving her text message by now and being very annoyed with her. But she was too tired to think any of those thoughts. And it was so much easier to close her eyes and drift into unconsciousness. So that's what she did.

* * *

Butler saw the figure enter through one of the side windows of the building. He raised an eyebrow. It looked as if he wasn't the only one who had taken an interest in the professor. He got out of the car and jogged over to the library. Grabbing the rough brick wall, he effortlessly climbed up to the window and jumped into the building. The bodyguard had already put in a camera loop for the sleeping night guard half an hour ago if only to keep in practice. Regardless, the giant man crouched low on the library floor, all senses on high alert. Everything stayed quiet.

Somewhere to his right, a chair scraped over the ground. As quiet as a panther, he prowled toward the sound. A winged silhouette stood about to charge. Butler tensed, hearing the gasp of a woman. A moment later the slender form of a person dropped to the ground, scuttling under the table. Still alive then. Good.

Pouncing from his hideout, Butler rushed to the angel and grabbed him by one of his wings. Unbeknownst to him, touching an angel's wings was one of the worst insults there were in the angel world. Information, he wouldn't have cared for even if he had known. The angel roared in protest and then in pain when Butler slammed his fist in his face. You had to feel sorry for the angel. Butler didn't. He punched him again. The angel stumbled back, holding his face with a suppressed growl.

"Is someone here?" someone asked from the main entrance. The night guard alarmed by the commotion was rushing toward them. The distraction was just what the angel needed. It bought him a split second; enough to spread his wings and take off toward the open window he came from. He was running away. Considering his chances against Butler it was a good idea too. Butler dived under the table, the professor lying a few feet away from him. Unmoving. Something wet seeped through his trouser legs the same time as his hand touched something sticky on the ground. He lifted his hand and sniffed. Metallic. Blood.

The night guard came closer, his torch lighting up the floor. Enough for Butler to see blood pooling beneath the unconscious woman. Cursing under his breath, he pushed her legs out of the torchlight's beam, while the night guard strode out of earshot. Butler took off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. Anyone seeing the man undressing that fast, despite the tiny buttons and his large hands, would have been amazed. If they didn't call the police first, seeing the bleeding woman on the floor.

Now in his undershirt, Butler started to roll his tailor-made white shirt into a makeshift bandage and located the stab wound under her eighth rib. Not fatal, if you didn't pull out the knife first and bled to death. He pushed the fabric under her back and started to tighten it around her middle. The blood was already seeping through, ruining the shirt forever. Hearing the stitches of the shirt groan in protest, he fastened the knot.

Time to think of an escape plan. Chances were that the angel was still somewhere, waiting for them to make a mistake. The main entrance was out of the question unless he wanted to explain the unconscious and bleeding woman to the night guard. They would have to leave through the window and fast. By the looks of it, there was more of the professor's blood on the library floor than in her body. In any other situation, he would have tried to move the woman as little as possible and gotten help. With the imminent angel attack, he'd have to adapt his strategy. Reappearing from underneath the table, he pulled the limp body with him. There was nothing he could do about the blood puddle on the floor. He hoped the professor hadn't been involved in any crimes. As long as her DNA hadn't been fed to a database, there was no way she could be identified by it. He lifted her body up and placed her over his shoulder, careful not to put weight on the stab wound. Moving along the wall, he ran back into the library until he reached a window that overlooked the parking lot and his car. Climbing onto the ledge he nimbly jumped down from the first level. Shifting the woman's weight he landed on the balls of his feet, crouched and made a dash to the parked vehicle.

He registered movement from the corner of his eye, confirming that the assailant was still around. With the ease of years of training, he blindly grabbed his gun and without slowing down, he threw a look over his shoulder. Their unknown attacker had swooped down from the roof of the high building like an arrow and was flying into the range of Butler's pistol. The bodyguard aimed, shot and hit one of the creature's wings.

The angel hollered and momentarily changed his flying path. Enough time for Butler to fling the car door open. He dropped the professor into the passenger seat and waited grimly for the angel's next move. He didn't have to wait long. Having recovered from his initial shock, the winged creature was flying towards the car again. Butler waited until he could see the whites in the angel's eyes before yanking the indicator stalk and turning on the car's high beam. The powerful light beams hit the angel like a jab to the head. Blinded, he slammed into the pavement. Satisfied with the results, Butler hit the gas pedal and drove off with screeching tires.

* * *

**A/N** : Thank you so much for reading and lasting until the end. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did, writing it. Take care and until next time.


	6. Chapter 5

**Author’s Note:** Hello, my beautiful readers. Time for the next chapter? Let’s do this! More action, more mysteries, more fairies. Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination and my characters.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

_5 years ago, …?_

_The demon had taken him aboveground in the darkest hours of the night, well aware of Lucifer's history and remembering the last time, he had brought him out of Hell. Lucifer scowled at God's creation in all its filthy glory. Even plunged into darkness it mocked him with its perfection. Yonatan squeezed his shoulder in understanding. Answering with a huff, Lucifer stalked a few feet through the waist-high grass. The demon felt pity for him. It oozed from his every pore, wrapping itself around Lucifer's very being, almost suffocating him. He was the Lightbringer, he should be admired! Any other demon would have burnt alive for this insolence._

_Lucifer breathed in the cold air, the dark cloud in his heart dissipated. The angel flinched. No, that wasn't right. This wasn't home! It was not where he belonged! Summoning all the seething hatred he felt for his father and his brothers, he clenched his teeth. He refused to let the tranquil meadow soothe him._

_Yonatan led him to an old oak in the middle of the hidden haven. They sat in silence, the stars blinking like tiny fireflies, while Lucifer stared up at the sky, lost in thought._

_"What do you think?" Yonatan asked gently._

_"It's nice," Lucifer said without thinking, his eyes widening when he heard himself. Yonatan grinned and gripped his hand encouragingly, his obsidian skin in stark contrast to the paleness of the angel's. Lucifer pulled away. It wasn't nice. He had lied. Of course, he had. But why did he spare the demon's feelings?_

_"That doesn't mean anything, demon," Lucifer spat. "This is not home. My place is not here, nor in Hell. My throne is in Heaven."_

_Yonatan's smile was mild. "And you will get there, Lou. You will rule them all."_

_A shooting star crossed the night sky, flashing in its dying moments. Lucifer had no doubt the demon had wished for something. He believed in such nonsense._

_"What did you wish for?"_

_The demon busied himself with smoothening his wild beard before staring at his hands, unable to look the other in the eye. "To come with you."_

_Lucifer scoffed. "Demons aren't allowed in Heaven."_

_"But you could change that rule, couldn't you? As the new ruler and all?"_

_The angel let his gaze wander up the other man's defined arms, his broad shoulders and finally those eyes. Those red eyes, radiating more sincerity and nobleness than any of the heavenly angels combined._

_Lucifer grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into a hard kiss. Yonatan let him. Growling, Lucifer bit his lips and again Yonatan let him. The angel tasted blood, smoke and the promise of a simpler life. When they parted, he stared into his eyes._

_"I will make you a king in Heaven. I will make all the angels bow to you."_

_And all Yonatan did was smile his wise smile._

* * *

Captain Short marched out of the hospital, unsure what to make of what had been said that morning. She wasn't convinced that she could take everything the elf had told her as a true account of what had happened. His last comment had only proven that. True, most of what he had said, matched with what they had seen on camera. But vampiric angels? She wasn't even sure if there was such a thing. The angel must have hit his head harder than they had thought. She would have to make a note of it in her report.

Poor guy. Thinking he would start to work on this big project only to be shot down at the first opportunity. If they had asked her, she would have said they didn't need another book on rocks, but the People were currently crazy for anything stone related. It would last a few decades and then they would move to something else.

She remembered the time when everybody collected fluorescent scarab beetles. That had been a nightmare, especially when some pre-schooler let them loose and they would cling to everything and everybody. At least stones wouldn't attack you. Holly checked her moonometer. If she hurried, she could catch the last magma-flare and meet up with the others. By now, they must be interviewing the professor. She was about to walk towards the chutes when someone came running behind her.

"Captain!" a tiny pixie panted, her nurse uniform creased from a long night shift.

Captain Short turned around, inclining her head politely.

"We have a situation," the nurse stuttered with a haunted look on her face.

Suppressing a sigh, the captain followed the pixie back into the hospital. So much for that flare. She sent Trouble a text on the little screen that was embedded in her suit. Hopefully, she wouldn't miss the fun aboveground.

The nurse wouldn't tell her what happened, she just urged her to come quickly! Holly had to walk all the way back to the same corridor, she had left not ten minutes ago. Finally, they stopped in front of the corridor, where Holly held her back by the arm, demanding an explanation.

"Ben, one of our nurses," the nurse finally gasped.

"Yes? What's with Ben?"

Holly tried hard not to sound impatient. She peeked through the window, but the corridor was quiet. Nobody was passing through. Nobody was screaming either, which was nice for a change.

The pixie choked and started sobbing. "He… he…," was all she managed before she started hiccupping.

Great, Holly thought, now she had to play counsellor to the pixie too. Trying to coax the handbook phrases out from her memory, she calmed the pixie down until she told her what had happened in the last ten minutes.

"He was changing his bandages. I mean, he was so quiet and nice," she sobbed. She rubbed her eyes, smudging her mascara across her cheeks.

"Who?" the captain asked, although she already knew who this might be. She felt her hair stand on end at the memory of the geologist's statement. The way he had looked at her like a starving man. She knew something had been off.

"Mr Stampa. He was always looking so sad. And then, he...", the nurse continued to sob and Holly gripped the small pixie by her shoulder.

"He then what?!"

The pixie's face turned into a grotesque mask. Her mouth quivered and her swollen eyes opened wide. "Then he bit him!"

"What do you mean, he bit him?"

The nurse's voice became shrill as she recalled, "His arm. He bit his arm, so badly. So much blood."

Holly stared at her in disbelief. She didn't expect this to be a joke but if it was, she would make sure that someone would get charged with obstruction of justice.

"O-kay, I am checking this out. You stay, where you are. Are there any other people in the corridor?"

"No, shifts were about to change," the pixie said, rubbing her hands. Her lips had turned purple. Holly knew that look. The moment she left her, the pixie would faint. Changing her mind, Holly pushed the nurse into the other direction.

"Go and make a call. Ask for Commander Root and tell him exactly what you have told me. Let him know that I went in to check on the people. Hurry!"

The pixie nodded and stumbled away. Captain Short waited until she was gone before she pushed the doors open. Time to find out what the stone boy was up to.

* * *

Captain Trouble Kelp was counting to one hundred. He now knew how Root felt 90% of the time. Not to punch the Mud Boy took every ounce of self-discipline. Within the period of two hours, Artemis had insulted Trouble in 37 different ways. Not that he was counting.

And while Artemis was enjoying the break from his constant scheming genius mind, he was getting bored. The stocky-built elf wasn't much of a challenge for a mind like his. Artemis checked his phone for the third time in as many minutes. Where was Butler?

As if on cue, Butler burst into the room. In an instant, both Artemis and Trouble knew something had gone wrong. Trouble jumped up from his seat on the couch so that Butler could peel the still woman from his shoulder. Her blood had seeped through the white shirt around her middle and into Butler's jacket. In contrast, her face had lost all colour, her complexion a deadly waxy hue. She was hardly breathing.

"What happened?" Artemis held her wrist to look for a pulse.

Butler couldn't believe he was about to say the next few lines. "An angel attacked her."

Artemis turned to Trouble. "Can you do anything?"

Trouble cracked his fingers, a tick he only reverted to, when he was nervous. It didn't happen often.

"Let's see," he offered unconvinced. His healing skills were not as sophisticated as Holly's. He was more of a slap-bang person. Taking off his glove, he placed his hand underneath the shirt-bandage.

"Heal," he commanded, and the sparks flew from his hand, dancing around the wound before sinking under her skin. Trouble nodded grimly. "She won't die."

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "Wow, thank you, _Doctor_. That's the least your magic should have been able to do."

"I am not a healer, okay? She has lost a lot of blood. I can't sacrifice all my magic in the middle of a mission aboveground. She will have to do the last bit herself."

Artemis didn't answer, concentrating on counting the heartbeats under his fingertips. Her pulse was stronger now. And some dizziness would make it easier to question her too, he thought matter-of-factly. He straightened. "How is the situation, Butler?"

Butler had locked the hotel room and stood at the window, peeking through the closed curtains. He had threaded into traffic, making sure to shake off the angel. Regardless, he would not let his guard down now. He turned and stepped away from the curtains.

"Seems quiet. For now."

He gave them an account of what had happened in the library, pausing when the professor began to stir. Artemis opened his mouth, the moment the window shattered with a loud bang. Butler didn't bother to check for the cause of it, he grabbed Artemis and dragged him behind the couch. Trouble followed suit, unsheathing his blaster and pointing it at the hole in the window.

Disoriented and startled by the noise, Sofia jumped up. Shapes and colours danced in front of her eyes, but her brain couldn't process any of it. Her legs buckled underneath her and she fell face-first into the soft carpet. A hand grabbed her ankle. She blindly kicked at the hand, trying to grab the carpet. The person that was attached to the hand, however, was too strong and dragged her behind some sort of wall. She wiggled around to an enormous man, looming over her. Ignoring her gaping at him, he climbed over her with a pistol in hand. Sofia sat up and immediately wished she hadn't. Her head was spinning. What had happened? Had someone drugged her?

"You might want to put your head between your legs. Blood loss can make you dizzy," a voice offered next to her. She turned to look at a boy with the palest complexion, she had ever seen. Her head was pounding too much to ponder on that detail, though, so she followed his instructions, while gunshots ripped through the air.

Trouble hid behind one of the massive armchairs. He had looked upon the lavish luxury of the room with distaste when he first entered. Who needed all of this? Now, he was grateful for the extra protection. He couldn't see what Butler was doing, so he had to decide on an appropriate plan of action. He turned the dial on his blaster up to Medium. Ideally, he would stun the attacker. If it was an angel, they could question them too. Killing two stinkworms with one shot.

He readied himself, crouched low and turning around the armchair, shot twice at the window. He retreated behind his cover, despite the fact that there wasn't anyone at the window. Shield or no shield, he wasn't stupid. He was invisible, not invincible. He dared another look around the armchair, scanning the perimeter. Strange. The guy wasn't anywhere to be seen.

Trouble heard the flapping of wings above him. Before he could finish whatever thought had been going through his head, his instincts took over. Raising his blaster, he shot at his attacker, hitting the winged beast straight in the face. Its head snapped back by the sheer force of the shot, killing it in an instant. In his later report Trouble would voice his surprise by the seeming unconcern for its own physical integrity. The angel either didn't care or didn't expect the elf to defend himself. The sudden silence that followed the attack was deafening.

Artemis straightened from behind the couch, before absentmindedly fixing up his shirt and buttoning his jacket. Deeming the situation to be safe, he stepped closer to the body that was laying in the middle of the hotel room. Butler and Trouble were already standing over it, studying the angel in detail. It was the first time Trouble saw an angel up close.

"Those wings," Trouble managed after a second. They had to be at least 4 meters in wingspan, and they were magnificent. Surprisingly soft as well, considering the angel's brutal nature. This particular specimen had brown feathers with golden tips. A hole in his right wing, where Butler had hit him. Another one in his head, where Trouble had hit.

Sofia peeked over the back of the couch, leaning heavily on it as she tried to catch her breath. She was already sweating from the effort. Walking over, she had a look at the angel in the light. Despite his immense wingspan he looked… starved. Any other day, she might have felt bad for him. Today, she had almost died by his hands. Today, she was fine with the no-sympathy-kind-of-treatment. Someone took her by the arm, even before she realized how blurry her vision had become.

"The Major needs to see this," she said, her voice slurred.

"And what would you tell him?" a voice behind them asked.

* * *

**A/N:** And who might that be? Hang in tight, all will be revealed first thing in the next chapter. Thanks for reading and as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter. 😊


	7. Chapter 6

**Author’s Note:** Hello, my beautiful readers. Let’s find out, who the mysterious voice was, shall we? Explanations, more mythical creatures, prophecies and a lot of obnoxiousness (is that a word? It is now!). Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination and my characters.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

The curtains blew gently in the breeze as the city sounds poured into the room through the shattered window. The corpse amidst glass shards strewn on the floor turned the luxurious suite into a sinister crime scene.

The professor was swaying. While she looked more alive than half an hour ago, her usual warm olive skin had turned an ashen hue. Butler caught her by the arm.

"The Major needs to see this," she said with a slurred voice, slumping against Butler. He would have led her back to the couch if there hadn't been the umpteenth interruption that night.

Glass shards crunched under someone's shoes, the moment a voice asked, "And what would you tell him?"

Butler released his grip on the professor's arm, who dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, and spun towards the window. Another angel had entered the room through the open window, smiling at the sight of two pistols pointed at his head. With a simple flick of his wrist, Butler's pistol and Trouble's blaster flew across the room.

"Gentlemen," the man said reprovingly, strolling to the couch. He gripped the backrest and easily flipped it back. He sat, folding his wings behind him and motioning to the empty seats.

"Please, sit," he said graciously, enjoying the apparent confusion. "Bring the scholar too, if you don't mind."

When nobody moved, the man ground his teeth. Artemis could have sworn his eyes turned black for a second. "I am not going to ask twice, mortals."

Trouble had assumed a defensive stance, ready to fight with his bare hands if necessary. "Who are you?"

"Oh, are we going to this now? Suit yourself. I am Lucifer, Helel ben Shachar or the Devil, whichever title you prefer," he answered, waving a dismissive hand at them.

Butler couldn't keep an incredulous frown from forming on his forehead. Artemis openly scoffed at the less than impressive looking angel. " _You_ are the devil?"

Lucifer sighed. He got that a lot. It used to be funny too, in the beginning. It got old, though. Not that he ever turned away from terrifying mortals. He complied with the unspoken challenge.

The hotel room disappeared. Instead, Butler, Artemis and Trouble were standing in the middle of a flaming river, its red lava illuminating the pitch-black night. Artemis smelled burning flesh before he registered that it was his own melting skin. Trouble shouted in pain. His magic wasn't protecting him from the immense heat. Butler tried to shield Artemis from the danger, which was pointless as it was everywhere. And then, as fast as it had begun, it was over and the hotel room was back.

Trouble dropped to his knees. Butler's hands were shaking. Even Artemis was silent for once, his gaze jumping from side to side, trying to compose himself. The fire was gone. The angel with the auburn locks and ginger beard was not.

"How do we know you are not the real culprit behind these attacks?" Artemis asked, overplaying his dismay.

"That's the fun thing: you can't. But if I wanted you dead, you'd be choking on your own blood already," Lucifer said bluntly. "Now, how about the little chat?"

Artemis nodded and gave his bodyguard a sign. Butler picked up the unconscious professor and carried her to the couch before resuming his position behind Artemis. Trouble walked to the couch, his eyes never leaving Lucifer, much to the angel's amusement.

Slipping a golden signet ring off his hand, he pushed it on the professor's finger. Artemis watched, expecting some spectacle, but everything remained quiet. No sparks were flying through the air, but some kind of magic _did_ happen. The woman stirred and the colour returned to her cheeks.

"A little bird told me you've been up to all kinds of mischief today," Lucifer said with a glint in his eyes when her eyes fluttered open. Sofia sat up. This time she stayed sitting.

Lucifer returned to his seat on the upturned couch, watching how she acknowledged the three other people in the room.

She shot Lucifer an uncertain look. "What's going on?"

"I thought they were your friends," he lied, the gleam in his eyes giving him away.

"I've never seen–," her gaze fell on Artemis. She squinted her eyes. "You’re one of my students."

"Technically, Professor", Artemis explained smugly, "I've been only observing your class. Quite a few people were curious after your recent shenanigans at The Palisades."

Sofia scowled, unsure if she was the butt of a joke, she wasn't understanding. "What?"

"What do you have for me?" Lucifer countered the playful glint in his eyes vanished. The exchange started to bore him.

Sofia hesitated. "Uh, do you want to do this… _here_?" She wanted to say _with them_ , but Lucifer gave the three a quick look and shrugged.

"Sure, why not?" he asked, running a hand through his hair. He loved the audience. Sofia remained quiet, her hands fidgeting in her lap. Then she noticed the cloth around her middle, keeping her from taking deep breaths. Lucifer made an impatient noise when she turned her attention to the bandage instead of him.

"Have you not figured it out yet? The little people are much more observant when it comes to the demise of their kind. It was only a matter of time until you would get yourself caught with your antics."

" _My_ antics?" Sofia asked prickly.

"I am not the one who tried to find out why my siblings changed their eating habits."

Trouble leaned forward. "What do you mean, changed their eating habit?"

"Oh yes. I keep forgetting how little you mortals know about the divine. How am I going to explain this, so that even your limited understanding will grasp this?"

Trouble shot Artemis a dark look, a dull throb building behind his eyes. Were they multiplying?!

"My father realized that you mortals were getting too numerous. He sent the Nephilim to Earth to take care of this problem. Somewhere along the way, they found a liking to human blood and they began to prey on the living. With me so far?"

Butler and Trouble nodded, their expressions telling a different story.

Artemis frowned. "But we are still around."

"Yes, the Nephilim lost their divineness. They missed the opportunity to enslave you all," he almost sounded disappointed. Sofia rolled her eyes. Sometimes she wondered which side he was on.

He continued. "Or to leave. Now they are stuck here and operate from the shadows, preying on mortals. No angel can fight off a horde of mortals with pitchforks or whatever it is you are smashing your heads in these days."

Butler had listened intently, the professor's fleeting glances not escaping him. He still wasn't convinced by this story or the whole development of this night. If he pretended to believe it though, then, "Why isn't… God intervening?"

Lucifer scoffed. " _Please_ , God isn't interested in the imperfect. He hasn't been involved in this sphere of existence since the Punic Wars. Not surprising, considering how toxic it is to us."

"It is not," Sofia murmured.

Lucifer stopped himself. "What?"

"I don't think it's Earth. It's us. There is a passage in _The Book of Enoch_ that–"

"You mean this one?" he said, pulling the book out from his bulky leather jacket.

Sofia gasped as he threw it into her hands. She reached out for it, the ring slipping from her finger and tumbling to the floor. Picking it up, she held it out to him.

A calculated smile spread on his face. "Keep it. I have a feeling you will use it again at some point."

Passing over the comment, she opened the book in her lap and shot him a disapproving look. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't go around stealing artefacts."

He chuckled. "The correct phrasing is _shouldn't_. But let's not dwell on such trivialities."

Trouble snorted, giving Artemis another telling look. Artemis ignored him; he was more interested in what secrets the book held.

Handling the pages with the utmost care, Sofia turned the pages until she found what she was looking for. She read it out loud, waiting for Lucifer to realize the implication. He shrugged. "What? You want me to plant trees?"

"No!" she called out in frustration. "If my theory is correct, those trees are meant to be fairies. _And the wine will be drunk and will bestow the power of the Divine all. But any of it that is left over and grows old is to be considered contaminated._ Humans grow old, their blood is contaminated. Unsuitable."

"That is a far-fetched theory," Artemis noted doubtfully. Sofia reached into her pocket, pulling out her mobile phone.

"Not if you consider other manuscripts. One _piyyut_ , an ancient text from the 4th century, outlines the creation of the world. It talks in particular about trees and the divine gifts of some small people. Historians think those are metaphors, but it wouldn't surprise me if it's actually a mistranslation," she said, her professional enthusiasm taking over as she looked for the photo on her phone. Moments later, she held up the grainy screen with the photo of the text.

"May I see it?" Trouble asked. Sofia hesitated for a second before handing her phone to the elf. This night couldn't get any more bizarre, she decided.

Trouble nodded after a while. He remembered the story; it was an old fairytale. A story, grandparents told little elves before going to bed. "The words are different," he finally said, handing the phone back. "But I have heard this fairytale before."

Silence fell over the room as Lucifer processed what this revelation meant. "But they have been drinking human blood for centuries," he said slowly.

Sofia snapped her fingers. "Exactly. And they look extremely… gaunt. You all do, to be fair. But they also display signs of dementia. As if they have become senile or are ageing."

Lucifer's expression became sombre for the first time since he had shown up. "You mean, they have been killing themselves over the last centuries?"

Sofia nodded. Lucifer clapped his hands, standing. "Great, so we'll let them continue doing that. Problem solved."

"They have started attacking fairies now, remember?"

Lucifer shrugged. "And I care because?"

"Fairies' blood will probably restore their powers?" she said, waiting for Lucifer to realize the implication. He didn't.

"That's very sad, but not my problem."

"I have more," she said gravely, flicking through her phone.

Artemis leaned forward, intrigued. The woman was proving to be more interesting after all.

"This is from the other book. The one you gave me. It didn't make sense when I read it. But last week with the angel, he said they would burn the whole place down–"

"Yada, yada, yada, come to the point, woman!" Lucifer cut her off.

She gave him an exasperated look before reading out the passage on her phone:

_And he reveals to me the end that is approaching with the reinvigorated Divine: that the whole earth will be destroyed, and the earth shall be cleansed from all defilement, and from all sin, and from all punishment, and from all torment._

She paused, hoping that she hadn't misunderstood this passage as she regarded her audience.

_And I saw a burning fire which ran without resting and paused not from its course day or night. And I asked saying: 'What is this which rests not?' Then one of the holy angels who was with me answered me and said unto me: 'This course of fire which thou hast seen is the fire which cleanses and makes all the luminaries of heaven whole again. It starts with the end and shall burn until the earth is devoured.'_

Sofia stopped. Something in the way she pronounced every syllable like a fantastical poem had made Lucifer's smug grin disappear. "Explain," he demanded.

"This fire might start the end of the world. In which case Earth will be destroyed, and… I believe this could restore any angel, fallen or otherwise defiled to their original state. In which case they could probably return to Heaven."

Lucifer shrugged as if he didn't care. In reality, his head was spinning. Were they trying to leave this place to go home? Michael wouldn't let that happen, would he? Not without fulfilling his oh so precious duty.

"And?"

"If Earth is destroyed it will wipe out anything and anyone on it."

Including Yonatan. Lucifer crossed his arms in front of his chest to hide his trembling fingers. "And it only took you a year to find that out," he mocked her.

Sofia shifted in her seat, heat rising in her cheeks as she glared at him. "It's not like you gave me any pointers."

Trouble thought he had gotten most of the information. He would need to remember all this for his report as well as filling in Root and Holly.

"Can you create the fire without the end of the world and fairy killing? Can they be sent straight to Heaven?" he asked rationally.

Lucifer shook his head: "Cleansing fire can only be created by an angel that is pumped with divine powers. It's like spontaneous combustion and it'll spread. I am as divine as it gets, but not even I have those powers," he stopped himself, his gaze locked on Trouble. "I mean, I could get them, if I drank your blood, elf."

Trouble froze, reaching for his blaster, still laying at the other end of the room. Lucifer burst out laughing. He ran a hand through his curls. "Don't worry. I would never sink so low as to drink anyone's blood."

"Then how are you going to stop them?" Sofia asked, changing the subject.

"Is there a way to rid us from them without the fire?" Artemis mused.

"We could always kill them," Lucifer offered. "Do you have, I don't know, a few thousand armies to spare?"

Trouble shook his head. "The most important thing is to keep any fairy far away from those angels so that they won't become any more powerful."

There had to be a way to deal them a final blow, not the Guerilla tactics he tried in the beginning, Lucifer thought. But which, he couldn't tell. He had been imprisoned, when the Nephilim descended. He scratched his beard.

"There is only one being, who might know the answer to the problem. Zmeu was among the first creatures on Earth before the Nephilim descended. He will know what can destroy them, once and for all. He is staying somewhere in the Carpathian Mountains. Should take you no longer than a week."

"You talking to me?" Sofia asked half-jokingly. The angel looked at her as if she had lost every marble she owned. She snorted: "I have a job, you know, I can't just leave."

Lucifer's smug smile returned to his face. "And forfeit this one opportunity to learn more about the workings of the world? I don't think so."

Red spots of anger appeared on Sofia's face. "And why are you not going yourself, if you are so sure that he will have an answer?"

Lucifer smiled, feigning uncomfortableness. "We have a history. He wouldn't be too happy to see me."

"And what makes you think he will talk to me and not simply stick something pointy in me?"

Lucifer stifled a laugh, the joke lost to anyone else. "Trust me, he will talk to you. But the Major will accompany you. I have instructed him with the location. That should make you feel better, no?"

Butler's eyes twitched by the mentioning of the familiar name. Artemis glanced over to the angel's corpse.

"How are we going to get rid of the body?"

Lucifer followed his gaze, before snipping his fingers. The body went up in flames and burned into a pile of ash in less than a minute. Satisfied with the chaos he had created, Lucifer vanished through the window before anyone could stop him, leaving awkward silence behind him.

Trouble cleared his throat. "Your boss is… demanding."

Sofia snorted: " _Please_. He is not my boss. I'd rather kill myself."

She stood. Lucifer might enjoy bathing in the attention of these strangers, sitting around the coffee table. She did not. "I should go," she announced.

Artemis nodded. He buttoned his jacket as he stood: "You are right, we shouldn't lose any time."

"We?!"

Butler didn't seem to be too excited either. "Artemis, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"I am quite sure. You, Professor, will obviously need all the help you can get."

Sofia crinkled her nose. It was as if Lucifer had never left. "I have been managing fine by myself. Don't you have to be home at some point?"

"I present a higher risk for my parents if I go home. As far as I am concerned, there is no need to lead any angels to my home base. I have been studying your career, Professor. You are conversant in several of the old Semitic languages. However, and correct me if I am wrong, Slavic languages don't cover your skills. You will need an interpreter to effectively fulfil your mission?"

She could have sworn that Lucifer had set the whole thing up. Nobody should have been able to imitate the Devil that well.

"On top of that, it will take you some time to get a flight to Romania. I have come here in my private jet and I can fly you there tonight."

That made her stop. "What do you want in return?" she asked, suspicious.

"Nothing. Can't I offer my help for the good cause?"

Sofia crossed her arms, making Artemis sigh. "You will need all the help in stopping the world's destruction, Professor. An apocalypse would affect me and my future endeavours as well. The stock market wouldn't react favourably to such an event. With regards to my funds, I am very much interested in your success. If you have no more questions, I assume you will want to pick up a few things before we leave?"

Dr Sofia Massetti had been teaching students for nearly five years. She had heard the wildest excuses for late papers and thought she knew crazy. The night she met Artemis Fowl, however, would take it to a whole new level.

* * *

**A/N:** Romania, here we come. Not before a big Butler reunion, though. I wonder if the Major is going to be happy to see his nephew again? Can we expect… tears?! Let's find out! Thanks for reading and as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter. 😊


	8. Chapter 7

**Author’s Note:** Welcome back, my beautiful readers. As promised, the Butler reunion, Holly dealing with some strange occurrences and Lucifer… being Lucifer. Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer:** Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination and my characters. 

* * *

**Chapter 7**

_3 years ago, …_

_It had been what, ten years? Probably less than that. When he showed up in her office, her messy brown hair stuck in every direction and the dark circles under her eyes made her look as if she hadn't slept in years._

_"You look shit. Have you aged really fast?" he greeted her, jumping down from the window sill. She flinched, spilling her coffee on her dress and documents. It only added to her dishevelled appearance._

_"What are you doing here?"_

_Lucifer plastered a smile on his face. Taking a pile of papers, he let them drop to the floor, making space for himself on the desk. Crossing his legs, he placed his chin on his hands, ignoring her shouts of protest._

_"That is not the welcome I expected. How about, 'Oh Lucifer, I can't believe you remembered me after all these years. I missed you'?" he offered in a falsetto voice._

_Sofia glared at him, patting the biggest stain with tissues._

_"I have a class in ten minutes. Is there anything you want? Otherwise, I'd appreciate it if you left."_

_While the Sofia ten years ago would have been excited about the Devil showing up in her office, the today Sofia had other problems. She put an overdue notice on the pile with the other ones. She would be dealing with that after class. Or the day after. This time for real._

_"Do you need money?" he asked sympathetically. Mortals always needed money. He grabbed some banknotes from his jacket and passed them over. Sofia slapped his hand away._

_"I don't want your money. I have a job. I have a career!"_

_Lucifer gave her a pointed look. "Is that why you are sleeping here?"_

_She froze. "How did you–?"_

_"I didn't, just a shot in the dark," he answered with a smug smile. Not quite true. He had spotted the folded blanket under her desk. But let the mortal believe he was psychic. That only added to their inferiority complex._

_Sofia averted her gaze, concentrating on the coffee splatters on her dress._

_"My flatmate left the key in the door, I couldn't get in. Happens."_

_"Often?"_

_The woman didn't answer, rubbing furiously over her dress. Lucifer lifted his eyebrows._

_"What happ–"_

_"What_ happened _? Life happened, Sherlock. Stop being so judgy. I live in New York and it's fuc– very expensive, okay?" she snapped, cursed in Italian and threw the tissue into the bin._

_Interesting. He hadn't expected that bright child to be such a disillusioned woman after being gone for only..._

_"When did we last see each other?"_

_"Seven years ago," she said, her voice distant._

_Lucifer scanned the bare office. The only attempt in making it more personal was the Tosca poster on the wall. Its colours had faded and the paper started to curl away from the wall. It had come with the office._

_"And how did you fall from being the star of the Vatican to a college professor who gets locked out by her flatmate?"_

_His gleeful smirk was too much to bear. She swallowed down the lump in her throat, lifted her chin and met his gaze with defiance._

_"I am a university professor."_

_"Sleeping in your office. Tomayto, tomahto. You are still a failure. I thought you'd be the Prefect by now."_

_Sofia slumped in her swivel chair, blinking back tears. Rubbing a hand over her face, she couldn't even muster a glare at him._

_"What do you want?" she mumbled._

_He grinned in triumph. "I have a job for you that will actually challenge your intellect. I need you to find somebody for me."_

_Turning on her desk lamp, Sofia grabbed a notepad and a pen, her class forgotten. She was about to scribble something when she began to frown. "How did you find me?"_

_Lucifer sneered, his skin stretching tautly over his gaunt face. "I tortured the Prefect to find out."_

_The pen fell out of her hand and she gaped at him. He burst out laughing._

_"I was only joking, relax, little one. I found you in that bottomless library you mortals have squeezed into all these boxes with the black windows."_

_He pulled a phone from his pocket, pushing some buttons and showed it to her. A bunch of cuddling rabbits appeared on the screen._

_"You know how to use the Internet?" Sofia was in awe._

_The angel shrugged. "Of course, I can do anything."_

_"How did you get a phone?"_

_"I received it as a gift."_

_Sofia scowled, playing with the pen in her hand. "You mean, you stole it?"_

_"Me?!" he asked. His mouth fell open and he fanned himself with his hand in mock offendedness. "I would never do such a thing! I asked the mortal very politely to show me how the machine works and he did. And then he gifted me his box."_

_She had a pretty good idea how he had convinced the man, but dropped the matter. "Who are you looking for?"_

_The angel was silent for a moment, the playful gleam in his eyes gone, replaced by seriousness. He searched her face, regarding her like a book written in a foreign language. "A demon. His name is Yonatan."_

_"Is he a friend of yours?" Sofia glanced up from her notepad._

_Lucifer shook his head. Pursing her lips, she opened her mouth when she understood. She wondered if that Yonatan was as difficult to deal with as Lucifer._

_"Your husband? Boyfriend?"_

_Lucifer tilted his head to the side. "What? No appalled outcry? Aren't you going to recite the Bible or something?"_

_She wasn't sure if he wanted her to be shocked or if it was his usual way of reacting to whatever she said or did._

_"How are we going to find him?" she asked, ignoring his comment._

_"Gee, you think I would be here if I'd known this?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He put an extremely old book in front of her._

_"This might be helpful, but I am too busy to read all of it. I am sure you can find something useful in it."_

_Sofia opened the book, the familiar old Aramaic letters greeting her like an old friend. She had an inkling Lucifer couldn't read the script, but kept that theory to herself. Putting the pen down, she scratched her forehead._

_"If I help you,… will my soul end up in Hell?"_

_Lucifer scoffed. "You'll end there anyway. There is no Heaven for mortals."_

_Seeing the doubt on her face, he held out his hand. "I'll show you."_

* * *

The corridor of the hospital floor was unusually quiet. Too quiet. Something was afoot. Holly had drawn her blaster and was peeking through the windows of different rooms. Nobody was around.

She hoped the pixie had called Root. If the commander managed to not scare the nurse into a nervous break-down, he would send out some officers. Stampa suffered from PTSD and would easily be overpowered, but as far as she was concerned, she was going to do this according to protocol. No need to give the Council any more reason to investigate her.

Holly reached Sebastian's room and couldn't help but wince at the patch of blood on the bed. There was no way a simple bite would have caused the victim to bleed that much. Besides, hospital employees always had to be full to the tips of their ears with magic, because of the nature of their jobs. The nurse would have been able to heal himself. Something was wrong.

Holly curled and uncurled her fists, her instincts screaming at her to get out. She wasn't alone, but she couldn't see anyone. Pricking up her ears, she waited. It wasn't so much a sound as vibration, coming from another room. Anybody else would have dismissed it as vivid imagination, but Holly trusted her gut feeling.

She carefully drew nearer and pushed the door open. The blinds were drawn, the dim light casting formless shadows on the walls. And there, huddled in one corner was a male nurse. Unharmed, by the looks of it.

Holly didn't relax. The hollow feeling in her stomach stayed as she crouched down next to him. "What happened? Are you okay? Have you seen Mr Stampa?"

The pixie shook his head, blinking back tears and rocking himself back and forth. "It happened so fast."

"What did?" Holly asked, although she already had heard the pixie's account on the matter.

He swallowed once: "He just, you know, jumped at me. I checked on him and then he jumped. He bit me and I started bleeding. It was horrible."

Holly paused when her helmet notified her of the commander calling. Root had indeed received a call from a hysterical pixie and he had no patience for emotional creatures. He had tried once, many centuries ago and it had ended in a divorce. That had been in his private time, he wouldn't waste his work time treating a civilian. He had barked a few orders at the poor woman until she had calmed down enough to tell him what she had told Holly. He had ordered a direct connection to the captain at once.

"What is happening?" he demanded without a greeting.

"This is strange, Commander," Holly started, trying to make sense of the situation.

Her gaze dropped to the terrified pixie. He was hugging his knees, a wet patch on his sleeve she hadn't noticed before. She pointed at it: "What is that?"

The pixie pulled his sleeve down, trying to hide it.

"No-nothing" he stammered. Holly grabbed his arm and pushed the sleeve back, revealing a bitemark. Not deep enough to cause real danger to the pixie, but if he had any magic left, it shouldn't be there.

"Comman–," she started, only to be interrupted by the pixie, leaping at her and knocking her over. The male nurse wrapped his hands around her neck, surprising her with his strength. Recovering from her initial shock, Holly wrestled with him, kneed him in the groin and pushed him off her. Without much effort, she got back on her knees and whipped out a pair of handcuffs from her side.

"You are arrested for the obstruction of justice," she grunted, but the elf didn't acknowledge it. He jumped back up and attacked her again.

"Holly what is your status?!" Root asked, unnecessarily. Holly's helmet camera recorded everything, immediately sending images to the commander.

Holly grunted, trying to avoid the punch. "Give me a second, Commander."

The nurse was strong, but he wasn't a trained fighter. He left an opening for her, which she used to twist his arm behind his back, handcuffing him. He wouldn't give up. He shoved and kicked back like a panicked animal.

"What the heck?" she shouted and pushed him onto one of the hospital beds in the room. She gripped one of the bed's belts and started to fixate the elf. He violently fought against her, trying to bite her hand. Holly jumped back in surprise, racking her brain to find a plausible explanation for his behaviour. He had looked normal, no indications for a psychosis. In fact, as soon as Holly took another step back, he stopped resisting his bonds. He looked down at the restraints, then up at her. His eyes filled with tears.

"Please, you have to help me," he groaned. "He attacked me. I wanted to help him and he bit me. Don't let him get to me!"

Holly frowned. "Did you get all this, Commander?"

He grunted on the other line. "Affirmative. A whole bunch of nutcases."

Captain Short wasn't so sure about that. The sudden change in his attitude could have been due to mental illness, but would he have been allowed to work at the hospital if that had been the case? It didn't look as if he had any control over himself back there.

She stepped forward. The elf started to thrash against his restraints. The look on his face went from fear to hunger. Holly leaned back and the elf calmed down again.

"Did he say anything?"

The elf paused, perplexed.

" _Sebastian_. Did he say anything before or after he bit you?"

After a moment, he nodded. "He said that... that it was time."

"Time for what?"

"I don't know. That is all he said. C-can you let me go?"

Holly shook her head, and stepped around the bed to the window, careful not to come to close to the elf, peeking through the blinds. The cold knot in her stomach had only become bigger, ever since Sebastian had made his revelation to her.

"Commander, I don't think this is a normal attack," she said.

Root had chewed his cigar butt so hard that he was still spitting out tobacco flakes. He knew what Holly was alluding to. Something was weird alright, but he was sure that it was some kind of terror attack. Not angels wreaking havoc. Angels. Next thing, the Easter bunny would be knocking on his door. No, thank you.

Holly cleared her throat.

"Commander, I've been told Stampa went wild and bit a nurse. Then I found his victim, who tried to attack me as well. No sign of Stampa anywhere. This might be an isolated case but if not, this will get really bad, really soon."

Root nodded in his office. "Good thinking. I'll send out a squad. We'll shut down the hospital. Nobody goes in or out. Keep an eye on the crazy one."

The hospital door creaked open. Holly turned around to face three very hungry looking pixies. Scowling she switched her blaster to _Stun_.

* * *

Butler drove to Sofia's tiny flat in Brooklyn's Windsor Terrace and stopped in front of the apartment complex, one of the many colourful facades lining the quiet street. Sofia had planned on going upstairs alone, talking to the Major first. He would know what to do, especially when it came to the boy tagging along. As if he had read her mind, Artemis leaned over.

"It would be best if Butler accompanied you to your apartment, Professor. He can make sure that no unwanted guests are waiting for you. I am sure Captain Kelp won't mind waiting in the car with me, Butler."

Were children getting more and more devious these days? Sofia could have sworn she had been busy dancing to the Pointer Sisters at his age.

Nonetheless, she got out of the car with the giant man and walked up the stairs. She lived on the fifth floor. No elevator. Which suited her well. If it was a pain for her to get up the stairs, then it would be too much hassle for any burglars. She didn't have a lot of valuables to steal from, to begin with. A few first edition books, but she doubted anyone would be interested in those. Still, it made her feel safer and gave her some exercise.

Butler reached for his Sig Sauer, the moment she pushed the keys into the keyhole. He entered first, listening intently for any signs of intruders. The distant street lights barely illuminated the small flat. Everything was in disarray. Books lay scattered around, clothes were strewn on the couch. Someone had already searched the flat. And that someone was still there.

Butler stepped into the living room, pistol pointed at the person, sitting with his back to them.

"Hands in the air, where I can see them," Butler demanded. The man complied and turned.

Sofia's view was blocked by Butler's broad shoulders. She ducked, peering through a gap in the door frame. Up close the likeness between the two men was astounding. She had kept sneaking glances his way at the hotel, but never managed to complete the comparison as he kept catching her. Now, however, it couldn't be denied. They shared the same narrow nose and the same full lips, although the Major looked buffer and meaner than his younger counterpart. He regarded his nephew with a cool look.

"I was expecting you ten minutes ago, _mal'chik_ ," he said.

Any Russian hearing the Major address Butler as _mal'chik_ would have been surprised. Maybe they would have laughed. But only once. Butler stepped aside to let Sofia enter, who now had to endure the Major's piercing glare. She dropped her gaze to the table. Two items were lying in front of him. A pistol and a necklace with a blue stone attached to it.

The Major tossed her the necklace. He waited for her to clumsily catch it and put it around her neck. Then he motioned to the pistol. "You know what this is?"

Sofia had a nightmare once, where the Major was scolding her in front of her whole high school class. This had the same feeling to it, apart from her wearing clothes and only one person who could gleefully laugh at her afterwards.

"It's a pistol," she stared at him, silently pleading him to stop. The Major didn't notice it or didn't care.

"And what does it do in your flat?"

She considered citing an article which stated that people owning a gun were five times more likely to be killed in an assault. The expression on the older man's face stopped her before she had even opened her mouth.

"I didn't think I would need it in the library." After all, what was the worst a book could do to you?

The Major wouldn't let it go. "Even without it, why didn't you defend yourself? You have been getting all those Muay Thai lessons."

Sofia wiped her hands on her dress, mumbling and racking her brain for an excuse.

"Excuse me?"

"I haven't been going to the classes," she admitted.

"But you have been going to the gym for a year now."

"Oh, I've been going to the gym, just not the Muay Thai classes," Sofia said quickly, stumbling over the words at the sight of the Major's frown.

"So, you have been doing what? Kickboxing?"

Sofia shifted around, her cheeks burning. She shook her head, giving her shoes a scrutinizing examination.

"What then?" the older man asked, his voice strained.

Sofia sighed. "I have been going to Bollywood Dancing classes."

The Major groaned. Butler forced a blank look on his face.

"They were kicking me and it hurt," Sofia explained weakly.

The Major gave her a pointed look. That man was still as scary as on the first day. She scurried past him to her bedroom, avoiding any eye contact. "I need to pack a few things," she mumbled.

Butler turned to his uncle, unsure of what to say. He had so many questions, but now he didn't know what to ask first.

"You were dead," he blurted out. It sounded like an accusation, he realized. The Major didn't reply but gave him a hard stare. Butler had forgotten how unsettling the gaze was.

Avoiding his uncle's eyes, Butler looked around the living room. The chaos in the flat hadn't been due to a burglary. It was just a messy place. He couldn't see any apparent system either.

The bookshelves that were in the room were filled to the brim. Open boxes filled with more books lined up under the window. And even more books stacked on any available surface. The table, chairs, windowsills. The professor had converted book piles to dish trays, unwashed plates and mugs waiting desperately to be taken into the kitchen.

"You work for that Lucifer now?" Butler didn't turn around; it was easier to talk to the Major this way.

"I am protecting the woman from the Nephilim."

"She was stabbed today."

A cheap shot. One, which would have earned him a day-long run around the Manor in the past. But the Major wasn't his superior anymore. He didn't know _what_ the Major was anymore. They shared the same training, the same last name, the typical family resemblance. But the more similarities Butler found the more he realized how little he really knew about his uncle.

The Major didn't take the bait, rising calmly from his chair. "I can't be at two places at the same time."

Instead of elaborating, he handed Butler a piece of paper: "This is the location. I will meet you at the safe house. Keep _malen'kiy irlandets_ out of this. If he is anything like his father, he will get himself killed."

The bodyguard didn't answer. For once, he couldn't agree more with his uncle.

* * *

**A/N:** And that’s us for this week. The Major is great. He has a mind of his own and keeps defying my expectations. And plans, too. He made me re-write all his scenes because he refused to say what I wanted him to say… Come to think of it, he is a _major_ pain. And scary. He is the worst.

Thanks for reading and coming along this ride with me.


	9. Chapter 8

**Author’s Note:** Hello, my beautiful readers. It’s officially spooky season in my books, so I won’t apologise for playing the “Nightmare Before Christmas” soundtrack 24/7 in my house and peeling off my human face mask. Anyways… What can you expect today? Let’s see. Sofia going to Hell, Lucifer being bored and depressed and Butler having a painful flashback. Lots of feel-good vibes, aye? Bear with me and I hope you enjoy it regardless!

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination and my characters.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

_3 years ago,..._

_After returning from the scenic ride of Hell, Sofia knew two things for sure: Heaven didn't exist and she would never ever enter Hell again._

_Lucifer had held her hand like a child, making her first clumsy steps as he had shown her around. A ceaseless storm had ripped at her hair and clothes, eager to pull her into the vast emptiness. She had lifted her gaze towards the sky, searching for a sun or a moon or the stars._ _Instead, she had flinched back at the soot that had landed on her cheek. The heat had settled in her chest, numbing any sensation for the aimless wanderers. Once in a while, a monstrous creature had attacked one, dragging them away. Sofia had gripped Lucifer's hand, staying close to him. She had no doubt that they had been in Hell. But to believe you'd end there, no matter what you did in your lifetime? No way._

_Then her eyes had fallen on a small figure in tattered clothes. The old woman had looked up, locking eyes with her. It had been the face of her grandmother, making Sofia gasp in recognition._

_"Nonna!"_

_She had let go of Lucifer's hand, running to the woman, who had reached her hands out in greeting. Time had slowed down to a crawl. There had been something. Just some movement out of the corner of her eye. Sofia had turned to it, her movements and thoughts slow. So slow. Like being in a dream. But the hell creature racing towards them had been no dream. Sofia had seen its long bared teeth, the predator lunging itself at them. She had smelled its rancid breath. Had looked into those vicious eyes._

_Lucifer had yanked her back, making them reappear in her small university office. She had screamed, demanding that he go back to save her nonna. To bring her back. He had looked at her in sympathy. She hadn't wanted it. She wanted her nonna back. The woman who couldn't hurt a fly. The one person who deserved a place in Heaven above anyone else._

_"Help me find Yonatan and I will reward you with a long and fulfilled life," he said. "You will never suffer nor anyone of your loved ones. That and so much knowledge, you can fill every day of your life with learning something new."_

_Her mind reeled, thoughts jumping so fast through her head, Sofia felt sick to the stomach. She needed more time. She needed to help her grandmother. She needed more time!_

_Bobbing her head up and down, she agreed to find the demon. The only person Lucifer cared about. Not because she was satisfied with his offer, of course. Death wasn't an option any longer._

_Sofia went home, the howling gust of Hell stuck in her head, while she began working on Lucifer's book. The words seemed to be flowing from the pages with the craftsmanship of poets, who died centuries ago. After trying to date it, she was sure that it was older than the Bible. There had been rumours and theories, but those had never been proven right. Scholars had fantasized of such marvellous texts as the Gospel of Magdalena or The Epistle of Barnabas without ever proving their existence and she was sitting in a tiny New Yorker flat, reading those priceless texts._

_The flat door slammed shut. Charlene stomped into the living room, seeing Sofia sitting on the couch with a rotting book on her lap, tears streaming down her cheeks._

_"Hey, I am having a party later on. Can you make sure, like, not to be around? Cheers."_

_She stared at the blonde with the pierced eyebrows, who hadn't bothered to wait for an answer. The one who also hadn't paid rent for the last two months. Sofia got up and started packing._

* * *

Lucifer was bored. His throne bored him. Hell bored him. Life bored him. Even the humans bored him. He wanted to be entertained! And there was only one place that would be able to beat his boredom. The angel rose into the air and flew through the joke of a kingdom.

His kingdom. Or was it his kingdoms? Hell wasn't just one hell. It didn't only consist of the place were all humans went to after death. Hell had many layers. Thirteen to be precise, somehow nearly all of them became desolate and uninhabitable, though.

Once upon a time, he had given a toss about it, too. Back, when he had tried to bring order into Hell. Because Yonatan had wanted him to. But Hell wasn't like Heaven. There was only chaos. Chaos and cursed creatures. Creatures that only lived to torture human souls.

He had forbidden them to touch a human soul, punishing anyone who went against his ruling. But then the yalayi had escaped their prison and began preying on human souls. Their numbers had increased in the blink of an eye. Too many for him to defeat. He had given his best efforts, he really had. While Yonatan was around anyway. Once his brothers had stolen his demon, nothing mattered anymore. If he could, he would have burned the whole place down by now.

Lucifer flew up above a rugged cliff, overseeing an ocean of lava. Filthy demons scattered from one rock to the next. The angel let a fireball fly down into a crowd. They dispersed around like ants, completely at his mercy. Their terror made him smile.

Once upon a time, he believed in justice and redemption. No, that wasn't right. Once upon a time, _Yonatan_ had believed in justice and redemption. And Lucifer had humoured him because it had made him happy.

_"You are the Lightbringer, Lou. You are destined for greatness down here."_

The angel snorted. Destined. The only thing he was destined to do was roasting demons. He was about to throw another fireball when a small creature clad in rags came scurrying towards him. It fidgeted around, never settling in one spot, its claws scratching on the stone. It gave him a headache.

"What?" he asked, the fireball playing around his hand.

"Your brother, my Lord," it squeaked, terrified.

"Which one?"

The creature hesitated. "The one with the wings?"

"Idiot, they all have wings. What does he want?"

The creature started to sweat. Most curious as they didn't even have sweat glands. "He asked for a... a meeting with you at the forgotten graveyard. He said you knew it well? Does that– is that what you– I mean–"

It went up in flames before it could finish the sentence. So, his brother wanted to meet. Interesting. Lucifer smiled. This night turned out to be more entertaining than he had anticipated.

* * *

The knot of the clothing around her middle wouldn't budge. Who had tied this? Sofia had wiggled, bend herself like a reed into every direction and pulled at it, with little effect. _Oh, ma dai!_ , she thought exasperated. One option was always to ask for help from those two giants in her flat, she refused to go down that route, though. She would not be treated like a child. She could imagine their little snicker out there after she admitted not to do that stupid martial art class.

Moving to her bathroom she picked up some nail scissors. Enough was enough. She started cutting into the material close to the knot until the cloth started to give way. A few minutes later, she managed to rip the last bit away. Holding it up with both hands, she couldn't help but think the cloth used to be a big shirt. The parts that had not been caked in blood felt smooth. Expensive material. She wondered if any high street shop was producing such big shirts. Had this Butler person bandaged her? Had he been wearing a shirt? A jacket, maybe, she couldn't say for sure.

She looked down. There was a lot of blood, yet when she touched the place where she had been stabbed she couldn't find any wound. Sofia reached for her phone, her fingers grazing Lucifer's ring, remembering the energy pulsating through her when she had worn it. Her brain fog had cleared immediately. She had no idea it had these powers. Then again, Lucifer supposedly had been God's favourite. She put the ring on her index finger, surprised to feel nothing. Weird. Thoughtfully, she placed it on the sink, before letting her clothes fall carelessly to the floor. She stepped into the shower, letting the steaming water wash away her own dried blood.

* * *

Butler turned on the lights and wished he hadn't. The chaos was worse in the light. There was no place to sit down and he suspected that his uncle had dropped everything off the one chair, he was sitting on. They hadn't exchanged another word, the silence stretching on.

He turned to one of the shelves, the furthest away from his uncle. Full of books, naturally. The professor hadn't bothered to stack them all cover to cover, some were lying horizontally on top of each other. There seemed to be no system to it. Not even the same languages stood together. Butler spoke some European languages to a certain degree, so he could make out a lot of titles focussing on religious subjects. Some detective novels in between as well.

His fingers itched to take all the volumes out and to put them in order. It was beyond him how anyone could not prefer a clean, minimalistic room or a tidy bookshelf. He peered at a few photos, scattered on the shelf. Someone had cared enough to set them up, not enough to put them in an orderly fashion. Or maybe she had, judging by the way she treated her books. One of them was a black and white photo of a bride and a groom. The other was a more recent one. The professor was in there, together with three other men, grinning at the camera. Presumably her family.

The bedroom door opened and the professor stepped out, showered and clothed in a different dress. She glanced over to Butler and avoided his eyes, a backpack clutched in her hand.

"Was that your shirt? I think I owe you a new one," she admitted. Butler shrugged it off, buttoning his jacket to block her view of his undershirt. "It's fine. Don't worry about it."

The Major got up from his seat and handed her the pistol. She took it, unsure of what to do. Which seemed to irritate him. Then again, everything annoyed the Major.

"Wear it," he ordered and Sofia complied at once. She had known the Major for about two years now, but somehow, she doubted they would ever become anything close to friends. She put the pistol into the shoulder holster he had given her, slipping into her jacket.

"I will see you in Romania," he said.

"You will not come with us?" Sofia asked. If the Major thought she was overly emotional, he didn't show it.

He shook his head. "There are a few things I need to sort out first. I will check your shooting skills, once I get there."

Sofia rolled her eyes. Inwardly. She was too intimidated to do it in front of him.

The Major turned to his nephew. "You know what to do. Don't screw it up, _mal'chik_."

Butler clenched his jaw. A vein in his temple started to throb, but he nodded. He took Sofia's backpack and left the flat. She followed, but stopped and turned around.

"Would you mind leaving my vegetables to Mrs Bates next do–" she started, but stopped herself when she saw his dark glare.

"O-kay, just lock the door when you leave."

Sofia dashed into the kitchen and grabbed the bag of potatoes and some other vegetables that wouldn't see another day if they weren't cooked. She scanned the kitchen table, trying to find some piece of paper that had no important information written on it. It wouldn't hurt to tidy up a little bit, she thought. Eventually, she found a receipt and scribbled a note on the back of it. She grabbed the food and left everything on the other side of the hall before walking down the stairs.

"What is a malt- _shik_?" she asked when they had descended a flight of stairs. Butler let out a tired exhale. There was no way he could put the real meaning of it into words. He rubbed his face.

" _Mal'chik_ ," he corrected her. "It means boy in Russian."

Sofia snorted, discreetly giving the tall man another once-over. He might have not been as brawny as the Major, true. But his designer suit couldn't hide the fact that he would carry a washing machine across the city without breaking a sweat. Together with the clean-shaven head and the pistol he had pushed into his shoulder holster in the hotel, his whole appearance demanded respect. Definitely not a boy.

"So, he is a fulltime _culo_."

Butler let out a mirthless chuckle. Italian was a pretty language, except it wouldn't do if you wanted to curse.

"Not the word I would have chosen," he admitted before the stairwell lighting went out and plunged them into darkness.

The image of a sterile and freezing morgue flashed before his eyes. He had counted every crack in the tiled floor of the run-down building. Forty-eight. He counted the length of every white cloud coming from his mouth. Consistent. They had to be consistent. Erratic breathing could be interpreted as weakness. He couldn't show weakness. He was calm. Collected. He nodded, keeping his eyes trained on the hands in gloves. Blue, stretching over several prison tattoos. They pulled a white sheet back, the sound thundering in his ears as he was presented with an unrecognisable–

The front door downstairs was opened and someone punched the light switch. Without warning, the staircase was flooded with light again. Looking up, he gave the professor a weary look.

Most unusual for him a string of Russian curses popped up in his mind that would have even made Juliet blush. He jerked his head towards the exit and strode out of the New Yorker apartment complex without waiting for the woman.

* * *

**A/N** : Something of a downer chapter. My apologies, I am trying not to let this drift into angst and despair. Next chapter will hopefully lift everyone’s spirits again.

Thank you all for tuning in this week! I’d love to hear your thoughts on it. Also, I realize that I promised you Romania and we will get there next chapter. But first, Trouble needs to do his job. See you all next week!


	10. Chapter 9

**Author’s Note:** Hello, my beautiful readers. It’s time for a new dose of “Angel Conundrum”. We’ll watch Trouble do his work and Artemis making some clever conclusions. Also, if you want to get into the mood, I suggest putting some Wagner music on. For the pure epicness of it. Faust Overture is great. Or Ride of the Valkyries. That one might bring the valkyrie out in you, though, so beware! Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination and my characters.

* * *

**Chapter 9**

_3 years ago, ..._

_Sofia had moved into a smaller flat sometime during the summer break. The boxes were still piled up in the living room, the rooms bare. The walls, in contrast, were plastered in cryptic notes and codes as she tacked more and more illegible memos to the free spots. Two weeks later, she ripped them all down, hurled Lucifer's book against the wall and sank to the ground, completely exhausted. The book was useless. No hints on how to defy death. No information on how to find lost demons. Many references to other books regarding the angels, but she didn't care about the stupid angels!_

_At some point Sam came banging at her door, demanding to know why she hadn't answered her phone. When had she showered last? Eaten? Slept? Sofia had no answer for either question, she just kept sobbing her pitiful mantra of "I don't want to die." Fearing the worst, Sam dragged her hysterical friend to a medical practice, demanding an examination. The nurse gave her a sedative._

_Once lucid, Sofia claimed her fiancé had broken up with her back in Italy. It was the easier explanation. As a result, Sam didn't leave her side for the next six months except for setting her up with as many men as possible to get over the separation. Naturally._

_A year after her breakdown, Sofia finally made the connection after a colleague had asked her out to the opera. She had begrudgingly agreed and sat through three hours of Wagner's epic opera_ Das Rheingold _. Thankfully, any awkward conversation was drowned out by the music. It was during the second scene when the music swelled to a crescendo and the dragon Fafner sang:_

"Goldene Äpfel wachsen in ihrem Garten; sie allein weiß die Äpfel zu pflegen!" _  
Golden apples ripen within her garden, she alone knoweth how they are tended._

_Electrified, Sofia sat up straighter, a faint memory rising from the depths of her subconscious. The orchestra played on without pause, while she followed the surtitles on the screen above the stage, holding her breath._

_Her colleague had thought she had been captivated by the story. Why else hadn't she noticed his inviting hand on the armrest? He gifted her an edition of the Prose Edda, together with a dinner invitation. She took the book but declined the dinner._

_The Edda had influenced Wagner and the motif of the apples appeared again. The Æsir preserved their youth with apples. Golden apples. And they didn't just show up in Norse mythology. The Greeks had myths of golden apples, too. Hippomenes threw golden apples in Atalanta's path. Hercules had to retrieve them from the garden of the Hesperides. The Hindu Upanishad told the story of two birds eating the sweet fruit, whereas the deity Manannán mac Lir guarded them in Irish mythology. Even the Bible had them: "But Eve was corrupted by the golden shine of the fruits of the divine tree in the garden Eden."_

_Sofia went back to Lucifer's book, a bit shabbier looking after its clash with the wall, opening it at a random page and reading the first sentence. The words hit her like a bus, making her dizzy._

_"The apples of the golden sun."_

_It was all there. The book was filled with hints, she hadn't acknowledged before. And if those golden apples bestowed immortality than there was a way out of Hell, after all. There was only one tiny problem. Where did one find a golden apple?_

* * *

The messenger in Trouble's helm signalled an incoming call. Glad to avoid the awkward silence, he switched his attention to the commander. "What's the matter, Commander?"

The commander's voice came through after a few seconds of static noise: "... can't properl... Captain, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear. Is Holly on her way?"

The commander grunted into his ear. "Negative, I need you to come done, ASAP. We have a situation at the Frond Hospital. A squad is on its way, but I don't like this at all. Holly is stuck with a bunch of psychos. Might be some drug-induced mass panic."

Trouble frowned. Sounded as if Holly was having all the fun! He updated Root on what he knew so far. The commander snorted. "Is that a joke?"

The Captain shook his head. "Negative. I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't been there. But I think the whole thing is legit."

Root hesitated. "Is our man related to this Lucifer person and/or the Mud Men?"

Trouble shrugged. "It is a possibility. I don't have enough information to come to a decisive conclusion, but I'll keep you in the loop. I get to the chutes as soon as I can."

All the while, Artemis had been listening to Trouble's answers. "Problems?"

"I need to get back underground. We got a situation," he said when the car door opened and Butler and Sofia got into the vehicle.

Trouble's job was to read people on a daily basis. His instincts always directed him in the right direction. Even in such weird situations as the one in the hotel. Up in the hotel room, his gut had been dancing an Irish jig. Something had been off, but he couldn't say what. The woman didn't appear to be a threat. She was involved in something quite extraordinary, probably illegal too. She also seemed intelligent, albeit not the same level as the Mud Boy. What was her deal, though? Time to find out.

The more a person was fighting the mesmer, the more power you had to use. Trouble had been the best in his Academy psychology classes and had aced all his exams. He knew people enjoyed talking about themselves. All you had to do was coax them to do it. That's why in general you only had to use minimal magical powers. Plus, Mud People were easy to manipulate. He leaned over to her seat and sent the tiniest amount of magic into his voice. "You go back a long time with this Lucifer, aren't you?"

Sofia sighed, unaware of the magical attack. "Way too long."

"Who is he really, though?"

She turned around, holding on to the backrest and resting her head on her hands. "What do you think? Not Santa Clause," she grinned. Nobody smiled. Tough crowd.

Trouble hesitated, increasing the power of the mesmer. "You think he is the actual devil from Hell and everything?"

Her features became sombre. "Yes."

"How did you two meet?"

Sofia started giggling, switching more and more between Italian and English. "That is actually a very story. I was working at _l'Archivio Apostolico Vaticano_ and I found this ring in _la Basilica Papale di San Pietro_. And it was where Lucifer was trapped and then I freed him."

She waited for the others to join in her laughter. Nobody did.

Butler turned to look at her in disbelief. "You freed Lucifer?"

"I know, isn't it hilarious?"

Trouble blinked. "How did you find the ring?"

"Oh, that was easy. It was in one of the documents in the restricted section of the Archive. Just don't tell anyone, I wasn't supposed to be there," she grinned ruefully.

"When was that?"

"Oh, about 10 years ago. I was a snoopy college kid back then."

Tell me about it, Trouble thought. "And you have been in contact with him all this time?"

Sofia shook her head. "Nah, I hadn't seen him for a long time. No idea who he was torturing instead. He came back three years ago."

"Why?" Trouble pressed on.

"He needed help in finding Yonatan, his boyfriend."

Trouble's ears began to itch at this piece of information. Maybe that Yonatan was less elusive and could be questioned too. "Lucifer has a boyfriend?"

"I know, right? Anyone spending time with Lucifer voluntarily should receive a medal."

The Captain chuckled, throwing Artemis a side glance, reducing the mesmer to a trickle. "He is a handful, isn't he? Have you already found him? Yonatan, I mean."

"No," Sofia wrinkled her nose. " _Come l'ago nel pagliaio._ He will be somewhere in those angel hideouts. Freaking cockroaches all of them. Gone as soon as you turn on the lights."

Another dead-end. Trouble made a disappointed noise. "You will get a reward for your efforts, won't you?"

Sofia's eyes darted to one side, a shadow flitting over them. Gone before Trouble gave it another thought. A mistake as it turned out.

"I will get knowledge."

 _Knowledge_?

"And what are you going to do when you have the knowledge?"

"Continue learning?" the professor shrugged. Trouble was speechless.

"You learn to learn more? No plans to take over the world? Blackmailing people for money?"

She laughed. "You sound disappointed. Do you want me to use it for something more exciting?"

Trouble shot Artemis a meaningful look. "No, you do you, Professor."

He believed her. But he doubted that the commander would be satisfied with his discovery. Speaking of which, time to get back underground and see what Holly had been up to. Trouble disappeared into the night before Butler reached the airport. They were led to New York's airport hangar, passing numerous private planes and jets in the safety of the tin walls that shook and groaned under New York's aggressive winds.

An airport employee was busy pushing a metal staircase up to the doors, the sight of Butler giving him extra motivation. Sofia considered for a second to turn around and run, but then the Major would have hunted her down. A free plane flight to Romania seemed like a nicer alternative to her. Climbing into the jet, she stopped short at the sight of wood and leather. It was the most luxurious plane she had ever seen from the inside. And suddenly she knew.

"You are from the Mafia," she breathed. Would the Cosa Nostra kill her family, if she colluded with the Mob of another country? She didn't know what the rules were in such a matter.

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "I assure you, Professor, I do not need to work in an organisation to conduct illegal business. I am capable to do that on my own."

She could have sworn she heard some pride in his voice and it unsettled her even more. The boy sat down and motioned to the chair opposite from him, while Butler disappeared into the cockpit.

It would take them nearly seven hours to reach Bucharest. Time Artemis spent, retrieving information from the Internet on Lucifer, angels and the Nephilim. A lot of the sources were only filled with religious gibberish and not helpful. Only a small fraction of the texts seemed to be academic enough to be properly examined.

If someone had asked Artemis if he believed the man, they had met to be Lucifer, he would have scoffed and replied that he wasn't a gullible child that was fooled by whatever someone claimed. The wings seemed real enough, true, but there were enough nutcases, saying they were God or Napoleon Bonaparte. He believed in facts and the facts told him that this Lucifer person _believed_ to be the devil himself. He had others convinced, too. The professor did, but she believed in all sorts of things, like accumulating knowledge for the sake of knowledge. He would have laughed out loud if it wasn't so sad. Why learn if you couldn't make a profit out of it? While he had given up on blackmailing fairies to gain money, he was far from giving up all his shadier businesses simply because it was bad. _Aurum potestas est_ wasn't a pretty phrase. It was a way of life, a means to an end, a driving force. He pitied anyone with less ambitious goals in life.

Right now, he had a series of theories about what was going on and had made several calculations with differing levels of probability. If he limited the ones with a probability of 70% and higher, he had a handful of likely scenarios.

A: The man who claimed to be Lucifer was a good actor, who had undergone plastic surgery to pretend to have angel wings. The reason for this ruse was to lure him into a trap to either kill or kidnap him and to blackmail his family for a ransom. He had bribed the Major to play along for a part of the ransom as well as several other stooges. Possible, but a very clumsily performed plan. Even with the Major as a possible threat to his well-being, he was positive that Butler was competent enough to foresee any plans of the older man. After all, he had trained under and with the Major. Possibility B: The man was indeed an angel, which considering that fairies existed, was plausible. However, he just pretended to be the Lord of Hell to impress him and in doing so to get him to help in whatever real goal he had. Also possible. Or C: He was Lucifer Morningstar and was the real deal. If all three cases were taken into consideration, Artemis concluded that, as his well-being wasn't in any danger, it would only be in his own interest to tag along on this quest. Either there was no knowledge to gain in which case he would enjoy tearing apart the professor's childish beliefs or he would gain insight into a completely different species that could be extorted. Since he didn't know any of them, his consciousness wouldn't bother him, which he thought was ideal.

He had been working for several hours, while the professor had fallen asleep in her seat. He threw her a disapproving look, eyebrows raised, without stopping to type on the keyboard. Then his gaze fell on the golden signet ring she was wearing on her index finger. Its black onyx stone was magnificent. His writing slowed down as he unconsciously leaned closer.

Butler stepped into the cabin as Artemis was staring into the distance. "Artemis, you should try to sleep, the safe house in Romania isn't the most luxurious place, I am afraid."

"I appreciate the warning, old friend. But I assure you, I am not so spoilt that I'll mind a hard mattress for a few days. Please rest. You have had a long day," he said, straightening in his seat and returning his attention to the screen.

The bodyguard nodded and shot the sleeping professor a quick look, making sure that she wasn't about to jump Artemis in an attack. He sank into another seat and closed his eyes. Thanks to years of military training, he fell asleep in less than a minute, waking up in time to pilot the plane onto Bucharest's airfield runway.

Romania's capital was a grey city, but when they landed it was pouring down like it would never stop. The rain kept drumming against the window of the rental car, concealing the buildings they passed on the way to the highway. Butler had picked it up earlier from an airport employee, who had given the strange trio curious glances but kept his questions to himself after an intimidating glare from Butler.

Now, the bodyguard was threading into the busy afternoon traffic. They were still about two hours away from the safe house, but if they were trapped in the rush hour, it would take much longer. Hopefully, his uncle would be waiting for them. While he had been asleep, Butler had thought of questions for the Major. If only to quench his curiosity. The Major might not answer after all. Chances were that he wouldn't answer. But if the situation arose, he would be better prepared than last time. Juliet wouldn't have such troubles, talking to her uncle. Because she didn't fear nor respect him enough to second guess her actions. The professor on the other hand seemed to be scared of the Major half the time. His demeanour did that to people. They were family, though. Butler gripped the steering wheel tighter. Why would he turn his back on them? He would have never admitted it, but the betrayal to their family hurt him more than if the Major had stayed dead.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for joining me this week. I hope you enjoyed it and will tune in next week when we spend some time in a Butler family safe house. We'll also spend some more time underground with Holly and see what she has been up to. Comments and kudos are always appreciated!

Also, Fun Fact: When I went to Romania in October 2019, it was raining so badly on my last day in Bucharest that I spent a good part of the day in a restaurant holding my drenched shoes up to a hand dryer in the women’s toilet. It was just a minor hiccup on a great trip because I got to see beautiful Romania and Artemis didn’t, hehe. 


	11. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:** Hello, my beautiful readers. It's Chapter 10 of "The Angel Conundrum". Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination and my characters.

* * *

**Chapter 10**

Holly shackled the last pixie to the water pipes at the wall. Wing Commander Vinyáya had once told her to find something positive in every situation. For some reason, that advice popped into her head as she regarded the three men. Stampa was biting people in the hospital, who in turn went crazy. That was bad. But at least they hadn't left. Yet.

Holly couldn't make any sense of the current events, but it had to be connected with the attack that Stampa had survived. Or something the woman had done, when she had cut him down from the tree. That possibility was slim, she admitted, but the Mud Woman was a Mud Person, after all.

The other more plausible option was that the attack had traumatized Sebastian so much that he was projecting the attack on his fellow citizens. But then why would the other people have such an extreme reaction to the attack? Shock, she would have understood. Even hysteria but not bloodthirst.

Locking the door behind her, Holly was once again back in the corridor. She would have to alert whoever was in charge here to lock every exit and she would need to have a look at the security cameras. Maybe they had picked something up. She hoped that Trouble was staying out of trouble. Or rather would get into trouble with her. It would have been nice to not have to sneak through a hospital on her own.

Root thought the same since the communication channel came back to life and his voice filled her ear. "Captain, I am letting Foaly into the hospital's video system. See if there are any irregularities. Stay safe!"

Holly exhaled. "Thank you, Commander."

There was a whinny in her ear. "Just a second and... here we are. Let me check if anything interesting is happening."

She heard some keyboard tapping, then silence. Holly was afraid to ask, what he had found, but she had to know.

"Tell me."

"Our man is still in the house," he started. He is on the second floor, looks like he is drunk. Quite a bit of swaying around."

Holly groaned and started running. "Can you access the hospital doors from your end, Foaly? I'll go and stop him."

"Give me half a minute," Foaly neighed.

Taking two steps at a time, Holly reached the second floor and quietly hurried down the corridor, her trigger finger ready to strike. Stampa was nowhere to be seen, but one of the doors was open and there was a low voice coming from inside. Holly crept closer, pricking up her ears to hear.

"I need to get to you, my Lord. Aboveground, yes?" There was a pause before the same voice answered. "Not yet. Patience. _Patience_."

Holly peeked around the corner to get a look at the speaker. It sounded like Stampa, just more crazed than when she last interviewed him. He stood at the far end of the room, the artificial wind from the tunnels blowing the scent of dried blood into the corridor. Stampa had bent over a hospital bed, murmuring under his breath. Would he be biting another patient? Holly slipped inside.

"Freeze and put your hands up, Stampa," she ordered in her most intimidating voice.

The elf's face was ashen and more miserable than before. If she hadn't seen him half an hour ago, she wouldn't have believed it was him. Captain Short pointed her gun at his head.

"Step away from the bed."

He complied, albeit slowly. "You do not understand this."

The captain raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I understand very well. What is this? Some kind of trade that went wrong?"

Sebastian shook his head, his eyes suspiciously red. "I am _trying_. I don't want anybody to get hurt. But he is so strong."

"What are you talking about?"

"He is in my head. I can't... he won't stop. I need to get him out of my head," the elf babbled, getting more desperate by the second. He punched his head.

Holly hesitated. He did need help, that was clear. "Step away from the bed and we'll give you all the help, you'll need."

"You don't understand!" he shouted, throwing himself out of the open window. It happened so fast, Holly had hardly any time to react. She dashed after him and peered out of the window of the second floor.

Stampa wasn't laying on the pavement. He hadn't looked like the athletic type; the fall should have caused significant damage. Even if he had landed on his feet, he would have broken a few bones. It should have at least slowed him down so that officers could have taken care of him. But there were no police officers around. Why weren't they patrolling the area?

"Commander, is the whole building being monitored at the moment?" she asked into her helm mic.

"The whole building is under surveillance. There is no way anyone can leave or enter without us knowing."

"Hate to disappoint, but Stampa jumped out of the window a second ago and none of the squad is investigating."

Root cursed and shouted at the officers on duty. He had been busy phoning colleagues in different departments to make sure the events weren't leaked to the media. It was only a matter of time, of course, but the best fairies were working their butts off to give them as much time as possible.

"Get back to the headquarters, Holly. I'll put the hospital under quarantine. Position more patrols around the building. There are no more reports about bitten people, but I have ordered the doctors to treat everyone as a potential threat and to drug anyone they suspect of having the… _condition_ ," Root said.

"Do you think that's a good idea, Commander? We can't just leave them unprotected."

"I need you back at the headquarters, Holly. Finding Stampa is our most important priority. He will tell us what he has done to the people he's bitten. We have to find him before he goes around causing even more havoc. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Commander. On my way, Commander."

* * *

Most surprisingly, Butler had managed to avoid any traffic and was now parked in front of a remote house, surrounded by thick trees and an obscure forest. The modest house, a low red brick structure, had been in the family for a few generations. Nobody lived there, though. It was only used in emergencies and was regularly maintained by members of the Butler family. Fresh and canned food, as well as clothes, weapons and tools, were either stocked or exchanged. It wasn't luxurious by any means, but it was perfect for when you needed to hide for whatever reason.

Butler checked the premise, opening every room and doing a thorough check. Everything was in order. He hadn't suspected anything else. His cousins did a proper job when it came to these matters. Butler allowed himself to relax a bit.

Sofia dropped her backpack in one corner. While she wasn't missing the Major, at least he would tell her what to do. This whole Indiana Jones adventure wasn't for her. She was a scholar. Her place was in a library or an office or anywhere else far away from the danger. She trusted the Major enough to know she never was in real danger on those nights they were on the hunt for angels. He was the one doing all the fighting and the rolling in the dirt if it ever came to it. It never had, thankfully. Regardless, she wasn't particularly eager to creep through woods at night to chase up on angels to find out where they might or might not hide one angel's boyfriend.

Sofia checked her watch. It was 8 pm in New York. As if on cue, her stomach started to growl. Artemis heard it. "We should have dinner and call it a night."

Butler nodded and moved to the kitchenette, ready to start cooking.

"Would you like some help?" Sofia offered, but he shook his head.

"It won't take long. Feel free to rest. It has been a long flight."

All three rooms had the same grey interior that was wearing down even the happiest person like cement shoes of a Mafia victim in the East River. The general feeling of the Eastern bloc countries in the 80s, Sofia mused, as she sat down on the bed. Depressing and lonely. She wanted to call her brother, but Butler had told her not to use her phone, in case they were being tracked. She doubted that angels could track phones, but she didn't dare to take any risks. Instead, she studied the contents of the folder she had brought until the smell of food beckoned her back into the kitchen. She smelled fish and hoped Butler had thought of some edible sides. Butler finished piling new potatoes on Artemis' plate when he noticed her glance.

"I made fishcakes with spinach and potatoes," he said and Sofia felt her stomach churn as the smell got stronger. She tried to keep a straight face.

"Potatoes and spinach are my favourites."

Butler's lips twitched. Good thing he hadn't decided on making beef wellington. This conversation could have been so much more awkward.

"Apologies, I should have checked if you are vegetarian."

She held up her hand. "It's fine. Really. I am not a fussy eater apart from the animal bits."

Butler handed her a brown plate with green flowers printed on it.

"Have you always been a vegetarian?" he asked, trying to avert an awkward silence. Sofia shook her head.

"Not always. But after my grandfather butchered my pet rabbit, I decided to stick to the greens."

Artemis didn't even glance up from his plate. "To compensate for your feelings of guilt?"

Sofia sat down across from the boy and gave him a sour smile. "Are you always this annoying?"

"Professor," Artemis said, putting his knife down. His eyes darted to her hands. "We shouldn't keep any secrets from each other. Why don't you share your findings and in turn, I will help you and tell you what they mean."

His bodyguard frowned. He was used to Artemis acting superior, but this fixation on the professor's documents was new. They couldn't be that interesting, could they?

The professor studied him. "Are you scared you are going to miss out, Artemis?"

"That's ridiculous. I am simply trying to help you," the boy said, picking up his fork and focussing on his meal.

After dinner, the boy excused himself and went to bed. Sofia had offered to help in the kitchen, but Butler refused again. In the end, she had given up and gone to bed as well. Sleep, however, wouldn't come. The bed was hard and the unknown surroundings were making her uncomfortable. Finally, after tossing and turning for a while, she sat up. She would get a glass of water, maybe that would help. Wrapping the polyester bed cover over her shoulders she crossed the room and stepped into the corridor. The linoleum was cold under her bare feet and Sofia quickly plodded into the living room. She stopped in her tracks when she realized that someone was still in there.

Butler looked up from the book that he had been reading, his eyebrows lifting at the sight of the professor in the doorway with a big bedcover dragging behind her. She looked like a child playing princess. He closed the book and dropped it between the armchair to hide its title.

"Everything okay?"

She nodded. "Can't sleep. Might be the jet lag," she explained with a sheepish smile.

Butler nodded understandingly. "Would you like some warm milk?"

Sofia scoffed. "I am not a child, Mr Butler. I am not drinking warm milk to fall asleep."

"Are you saying this, because you don't want to look childish or because you think it won't work?"

She paused for a moment. She knew milk didn't work.

"There have been studies conducted, proving that milk doesn't help you fall asleep. So, no, I do not think warm milk helps. But, as I can see you are busy reading your love story, I am happy to get a glass of milk and leave you alone."

Butler froze and Sofia grinned knowingly. He had acted the same way her brother had when she had caught him reading _Pride and Prejudice_. In fact, she had never seen men act quicker. She waved him away. "I have three brothers. I know the signs."

A muscle began twitching in his jaw as he regarded her warily.

"Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me. I don't care," she told him, dropping into the opposite armchair and curling her legs underneath her. She pulled the bed cover over herself until only her head stuck out.

Butler got up, taking the book with him and pushing it into his jacket pocket. He turned away from her widening grin, while he was heating milk in a pot.

Looking around the living room, her gaze fell on the chessboard on top of the fireplace. When he had brought her the mug with the piping hot milk, she pointed to it.

"Thank you, do you play?"

Butler nodded, even though he wanted to get back to his book. With his job he was on duty 24/7, he had been looking forward to some quiet time before going to bed himself.

She had been half right with the warm milk theory. He had tried to get Artemis to sleep with this trick countless times, but it had never shown the desired effect. Which didn't mean that he didn't experiment with his own powerful concoction. It was a mix of a generation old recipe for a night of restful sleep with some of his medicinal knowledge. It was perfect. He sometimes drank it himself. From experience, he knew the professor would be getting sleepy in about half an hour. He could wait that long.

He picked the board from the fireplace and placed it on the small coffee table. He never managed to beat Artemis, but he had become a good player.

"Do you play a lot?"

She nodded and took a sip from the hot milk. "Yes…, this is _good_! Is this turmeric? I play mostly against my father, but I am very good."

She wasn't. Good. She was awful at it. He defeated her in only seven moves. She chewed on her lower lip.

"How did you do that?" she asked, wrapping the bed cover tighter around her shoulders, sipping on the milk.

Butler raised an eyebrow. He was too polite to tell her she sucked. Instead, he pointed to her rook. "You left him without defence three turns ago. If you had moved him to the other side, your king wouldn't have been open for an attack in the last turn."

"You are not kidding, _vero_?"

He shook his head and she shifted her weight, holding her face in her hand.

"Man, I suck at this game. How do you think so far ahead?"

"It's not just thinking ahead, but about using your chess pieces to their full potential. You ignored your pawns. They could've helped you early on," he explained.

Sofia wasn't convinced. "But they don't do anything. They can't even do more than one move at a time."

"That's not the point. Every piece has a job. You need to put them to good use if you want to win."

He motioned to the pawns. "You want to protect your king early on. You need to have a basic protective wall. The job of your pawns."

He glanced at her to see if she was interested in what he was saying. She stared at the board as if she had never played before, so he continued.

"Try to use all your pieces and get them moving. Don't focus on one piece to dash ahead, otherwise, they will be without protection from your other players. And ignore your queen. Keep her safe. She can be helpful, but she is also vulnerable, especially at the beginning of the game."

Sofia looked up at him. "Can you show me in another game?"

Butler nodded. He was having fun. Mostly winning, but also showing _why_ he was winning.

After another round of beating her while stopping every other of her moves, she had some idea of why her father loved the game so much. She wasn't getting much better, but she wasn't trying to go straight for the other king and ignoring the other chess pieces.

During the third round, she placed her hand on the rook, squinting her eyes as she looked Butler in the eyes to figure out if he approved of her choice. He kept his face blank.

"That is not how you win the game," he reminded her.

"I know, but it doesn't hurt to make sure," she sighed and moved the rook into the middle of the board. He moved his pawn, giving her an opening. Sofia paused. The opportunity was too good to be true. It had to be a trap she didn't know in which way, though. So, she stuck to her initial plan to move the bishop in front of her king. Butler was pleased. She had been listening after all.

He did defeat her, of course, but this match had been much more satisfying than the other two. Sofia curled both hands into fists and put them up to her chin with a heavy sigh.

"I want a rematch," she exclaimed. Then she yawned. Butler suppressed a grin. His recipe had worked.

"Are you sure you won't fall asleep halfway through?" he asked with a smile.

She made a face before yawning once again. She couldn't believe how tired she was all of a sudden. Could he have put a sleeping pill into the milk?

"Fine, you win. Again. But," she yawned mid-sentence, "this isn't over."

She got up from the armchair and swayed for a second. "The milk was good," she begrudgingly admitted. Butler accepted the praise with a nod. Sofia crossed the room and stopped at the corridor.

"Thanks for the chess lesson... I hope you get to finish that chapter," she added mischievously, leaving him. Still wrapped in the flowery bed cover, she was fast asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

* * *

**A/N** **:** And that's us! Hope you enjoyed it. This was actually one of the first scenes I wrote to figure out Sofia's and Butler's characters/dynamics and I still think that it's very telling.  
Anyways, comments and kudos are always appreciated and next time on "The Angel Conundrum" (imagine one of those presenters with a deep and sensational voice): The Major returns to be his usual gruff self and the LEP has to figure out what to do about Stampa. Will Vinyáya and Root make the right decision? Tune in to find out. Have a great day and see you next week.


	12. Chapter 11

**Author's Note** **:** Hello, my beautiful readers. Halloween is just around the corner, so this chapter is perfect: Some dark forest, people creeping about, a menacing danger lurking at the corner of your eyes… and some (silly) gun wordplays. Enjoy!

Also, a huge thank you to **JakeDot** and the mysterious guests for leaving kudos. They mean a lot to me and you are great! 😊

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination and my characters.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Trouble had hardly reached Haven City when he was manoeuvred straight to the conference room in the police headquarters. He scanned the room, studying the people present. Wing Commander Vinyáya gave him a friendly nod, but her icy blue eyes could not conceal her concern. Captain Vein, LEPrecon's top officer, greeted the fellow captain with a handshake before resuming his annoying habit of drumming his fingers on the conference table.

Trouble pulled up a chair next to Holly. She didn't look up from wolfing down some watery cafeteria sandwiches, so he watched Root as he walked up and down the room, his hands clasped behind his back.

Holly swallowed a mouthful, nudging Trouble with her elbow.

"Welcome to the party," she said with a forced smile. "Artemis' adventure not that exciting?"

He snorted. " _Please_ , a lot of Mud Men talk. This is nothing compared to it. What happened to you?"

Before she could answer, Foaly came clip-clopping into the room, a laptop tugged under his arm. Root nodded towards the screen at the back of the room and the centaur technician connected to the Police Intranet.

"Let's start," Root said in a gruff voice. Holly finished the last bite before describing the events of the last few hours. Root's expression darkened minute by minute.

"Great, so now I got a bunch of crazed elves running around town, biting citizens who turn into some wannabe-vampires? Any idea what the cause of this behaviour is?"

Holly thought back to the conversation with the nurse. "They all kept talking about the bite. Come to think of it, they all used the same phrasing. As if they were in trance or under hypnosis."

Vinyáya frowned. "Is this possible? Hypnosis by biting?"

Root snorted in response.

"The experience with the angel has traumatized Stampa," Holly told the gathered team.

"Traumatized him to do what?" Foaly whinnied doubtfully. "Bite other people? Who in turn do the same?"

"He is right. They act as if they were drugged," Captain Vein agreed. "Are we sure, this is not one big ruse to expose our kind or exploit us? Wouldn't be the first time."

Commander Root could feel his headache getting worse. He turned to Trouble. "What was your impression of the Mud People?"

It was Trouble's turn to give an account of his events aboveground.

"They are on their way to find out if the angels can be stopped without causing the end of the world. From what I have seen, I don't think they are collaborating with the angels. The woman isn't. She was about to kick the bucket last night," he concluded.

"Could have been part of their plan," Foaly suggested. It was no secret that the centaur loved his conspiracy theories.

"Unlikely," Trouble shook his head.

"Any mentioning of this anomaly concerning our bitten elves?" Root threw in.

"Only that fairy blood seems to be superior to Mud People."

"No surprise there," Vein murmured.

"There is one more thing," Holly said. "Stampa seemed to talk to someone. He said something about going aboveground to get back to the angels, presumably."

"Right," Root finally said. "First of all, I want all travels aboveground suspended until further notice. Foaly, send a notice to the border authorities. I want this put into immediate effect."

Foaly's fingers began typing on his keypad, even before the commander had finished talking.

"Our most important goal at the moment is to catch and detain Stampa so that he doesn't drug any more people. I can't shut the city down without the Council's permission, which is going to take ages to get through. Any chances for a shortcut?" he turned to Vinyáya, who had typed a few notes on her tablet.

"I'll put it forward. But don't count on anything before tomorrow night. By that time, there might be already some damage done, though."

"Not good enough," Root murmured, scratching his chin in thought.

Holly bit her lip. "Then let's force them to shut down the whole city."

Root turned to her, his brows furrowed. "How?"

"By causing a national risk?" she half-asked with an exhale.

Wing Commander Vinyáya choked. Root stared at one of his most trusted captains in disbelief.

"You are joking."

"I mean, I am not saying we should _really_ be causing a national emergency. Just make the Council believe it is."

"Out of the question. You are treading on very thin ice there, Holly. Seriously, if I didn't know you any better–," he left the sentence unfinished.

"With all due respect, you didn't see those fairies, Commander. They weren't responsive and highly aggressive. If we don't contain this the whole city might be plunged into chaos. And let's face it, even if the Council decides to tell people to stay in their houses, people will ignore it. The only thing that will keep people inside their houses is fear."

Trouble shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Holly, that's harsh."

She stayed silent, although she had about 10 different answers burning on her tongue. It was impossible to put the horror she had experienced in the hospital into words. To imagine that this madness could spread through the whole city was too much to bear.

Foaly looked up from his keyboard, having listened intently. "It doesn't have to happen. If, however, people _believe_ it is, they would stay inside, no?"

Root shot a look from Holly to Foaly and back to Holly again.

"Are you two out of your mind?!" he shouted, the red colour in his cheeks turning purple. "If this gets out, we will all lose our jobs. Possibly end up in prison."

Foaly held up his hands in defence. "I am just saying. If you want to cause mass panic, there are some ridiculously easy methods."

"For example?" Vinyáya asked.

"You can't be serious, Rai– Wing Commander!" Root protested.

"If Holly thinks the matter is so urgent that she considers causing a national emergency, then yes, Julius, we should hear Foaly out," she said, miffed about the fact that he had called her by her title, instead of her first name.

Holly lifted one corner of her mouth in a joyless smile, thankful for the support from the wing commander.

The centaur projected some old pictures from the last century. "As is probably known I have been studying the Mud People–"

"Get on with it!" Root ordered unnerved.

"Right. There have been several cases of mass hysteria aboveground, merely by news reports. One of them was in the 1930s in the USA. It was a radio play, reporting an alien attack. People thought it was happening and freaked."

Root snorted, unimpressed. "What? You want me to broadcast a radio play? Is this a joke?"

"What I was trying to say, Commander, was that people will believe anything if it is broadcast in the news. All we would need is to tip them off."

Silence fell over the room. This had better work, Root thought, or he would get his retirement earlier than he had wished for.

"Let's do it," Root finally said. "I don't have to stress that I need your absolute secrecy on the matter. Short, Kelp, Vein, I want you to patrol the city streets. Choose only the absolute necessary number of officers. Get me Stampa and put any attackers out of action."

All three captains jumped up, saluted and left the room.

* * *

The Major had ordered Butler to stay inside and they had spent the following day stuck in the safe house. And although the house did keep them safe from possible attackers, it did nothing to keep their spirits up. The grey walls and lack of things to occupy their minds slowly ate away their patience.

Butler had taken his Sig Sauer apart, cleaned every last spring and put it together again. Twice. Then he cleaned the kitchen sink and cooker. After a quick surveillance check, he went on to clean the bathroom. Artemis had downloaded some related books on their current adventure onto his e-reader and had brought it with him. He was reading them now, ripping the ideas of established academics apart and having the time of his life. Sofia had started to copy her handwritten notes on a second piece of paper but gave up halfway. It looked exactly like her first copy and was just as illegible. She picked up the Book of Enoch, opening it on a random page and reading a random sentence. And read it again. There were words, but their meaning went over her head. Frustrated, she slammed the book shut and stretched on the couch.

Artemis ignored her for about 10 minutes before he acknowledged her lying motionless on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

"Is the lack of your social media keeping you from a productive day, Professor?"

She didn't answer.

"I have finished the article of one of your colleagues on the religion's tactility in regards to American society. It was quite interesting, indeed. Extremely funny."

Sofia turned her head to see if he was smiling. He wasn't. "Levine is an idiot. He has no idea what he is talking about half the time."

Artemis switched into Italian. "Care to explain?"

She shrugged. "He is a white, privileged male talking about equality? _Please_."

"I suppose you think your paper on why Dante's journey is more satisfying than Dr Faustus' is sounder. Since you are constantly thirsting for more knowledge."

"At least I don't pretend to understand issues that are beyond my grasp."

Artemis smiled. He might not have any magical powers, but he could get information in different ways.

"I thought your reasoning was a tad easy, Professor. Don't you think you portrayed Dr Faustus too negatively?"

Pursing her lips, Sofia sat up. "If you read my paper, then you'll know I see Faust and Dante as equals, despite their approaches."

Artemis nodded. He did know. Her manifest on the continuous learning part was applaudable, albeit starry-eyed.

"Yes, learning is so very important. Tell me, Professor, did you put your knowledge to good use recently? Apart from trying to explain the makings of Hell to eager students?"

He was mocking her. The boy was less than half her age and thought her endeavours were childish. She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind when he held up his hand to silence her.

"Relax, Professor. I was messing with you. Your beliefs are very much valid. Don't let yourself be provoked by my comments. In fact, I took the liberty to mark some of the passages with my comments. I think you will find them deeply stimulating."

He handed her a printout of her paper, filled with comments. Then he handed her another bundle of papers. "This is one of my papers. Maybe something, you can incorporate in your next class. Although, this might be a bit too complicated for your audience."

Sofia's eyes darted between the pile of paper in her hand and the boy. She took his paper and started reading the first page, curious if he was as clever as he pretended to be. She turned to the next page. And then the next. Her awe grew, but she refused to show it, keeping a straight face. That boy definitely didn't need any more self-esteem.

* * *

It was after dinner when the Major walked into the house. He exchanged a few words with Butler, before turning to Sofia.

"Massetti, with me. Grab your pistol," he ordered.

Sofia jumped up from her seat and snatched the pistol from her nightstand, much to the annoyance of the Major. She slipped into her jacket, a sparkle from the corner of her eye reminding her of Lucifer's ring she had dropped on her nightstand. The golden band had slipped from her finger twice on their way to the safe house. Healing powers or not, she wouldn't need it with the Major keeping her safe. She left it where it was and followed the older Butler into the woods.

Through the thicket. Through the muddy underground. Through the dense mass of trees. It felt like they had marched for hours when he finally stopped. He sat on a tree trunk and pointed to a tree a good distance away.

"Show me."

It was a simple command, but Sofia swallowed. She should have been confident enough. She had been regularly going to the shooting range. Her aim was okay-ish. She hit about 50% of the time. Still, to be scrutinized by the man in front of her was like walking into an exam never having had a look at the material. She took a breath, squinting her eyes and trying to make out the target in the darkness of the twilight.

The Major threw her some night-vision goggles. "You should always be prepared for bad visibility conditions."

Nodding, she put them on and her surroundings became fluorescent green. The Major's eyes glowed starkly against the rest of the surroundings. A shiver ran down her spine.

"Have you cocked your gun?"

A triumphant smile spread across her face. It was a trick question. "Glocks don't have co–," she stopped herself. "I mean, you don't have to cock a Glock."

His expression didn't change. He waited with his arms crossed. It wasn't the first time she wondered why he was protecting her when he clearly couldn't care less about her. In truth, he didn't seem to care about anything. And while his task was to protect her, she doubted that he would spare her a tear if she did get to harm.

Straightening, she picked up her Glock and put her hand around the butt of the pistol, the way she had learned. Breathing calmly, she focussed on the tree in the distance. She aimed, held her breath and pulled the trigger. Just like at the shooting range. And missed. The Major sighed. He wasn't furious, though, so that was a start.

"Again."

She took a breath, aimed and shot again. This time, she scraped the side of the trunk. The Major nodded.

"Your stance isn't too shabby, but you have gun cant."

"Gun cunt?" she asked with a frown.

"Gun _cant_! You miss the aim because your arms are leaning to one side. What are they teaching you?"

It was a rhetorical question, of course. She shifted the googles, scratching the bridge of her nose. "What can I do to stop this from happening?"

"Good question. Pull the trigger, while you breathe out. You will get a better aim."

She tried again. The shot hit the trunk of the tree and the Major grunted. It was a much better shot. He made her shoot the tree until she ran out of bullets. Then he threw her a new one and waited until she had exchanged the cartridges. She lifted the goggles to wipe away the sweat from her cheekbones, waiting for him to call it a night.

"Now, shoot me."

"What?" Sofia started, sure that she had misheard him.

"I said, shoot me. That is an order, soldier!"

"Are you stupid? I could kill you!"

The Major got up from the trunk and strode towards her, his face turned into a menacing mask in the green light. Sofia backed away, raising her pistol. "If this is one of those weird trust tests, I am not into those games. Stop it!"

He didn't. Instead, he kept coming closer and closer. He raised his fist, ready to smash it into her face. Sofia clenched her eyes shut, waiting for the impact. It never came. The Major wrapped his fingers around the barrel of the pistol.

"If I wanted you dead, this would have been your call."

Sofia slapped his arm. "Congratulations, you creep!"

"If there is an attacker, you'll need to take him out. I am also wearing a bulletproof vest."

The last bit had been a lie, but she didn't need to know. Sofia pulled the night goggles off her head and threw them to his feet.

"Couldn't you have told me that beforehand!?"

The Major sighed. "That was my point. It shouldn't matter."

Because anyone could try to kill me, she reminded herself. She knew what he was saying. Still, she would rather be mad at him. He had picked up the googles and turned towards the thicket.

"Let's hope you won't have to use your skills," he murmured and started walking.

"Where are you going? The house is in the other direction."

"We are not going to the house," he said, without looking back.

As soon as the professor and the Major had left the room, Artemis had given Butler a nod. The bodyguard knew what that meant. He took off his suit jacket and picked up his army jacket. The pursuit of a target was like second nature for Butler. It had been one of the first things he had been taught as a kid.

Years before the Academy, his uncle had made him shadow a squirrel once. To this day he wasn't sure if it hadn't been a joke. His eight-year-old self hadn't questioned the command, of course. He ended up dangling down a tree, scaring a very upset squirrel family. Naturally, going after his uncle without him realising it, was a completely different story.

He picked up the night goggles Artemis had improved with fairy technology a few years ago. The contraption wasn't comparable to LEPRecon equipment but still miles better than human technology. It would allow him to hide further away, without losing much of what was happening. Plus, even though his uncle was a pro, he was relying on the same strategies, Butler would have. With the right preparation, even the Major could be shadowed.

He slipped out of the house, reminding Artemis to not let anyone in and to not venture out by himself as well as of the security weapon stash under the stairs to the cellar. Butler took a deep breath, the air cooling down with the night falling on the surrounding forest. Following the beaten path, Butler crept through the thicket.

It didn't take long for him to discern movement in the distance. Two shapes. One big, one smaller. Butler stopped, hiding beneath some high raspberry bushes. He focussed his goggles, getting a better look at the scene. During the next hour, he watched the professor shoot several times at a tree. It reminded him of the shooting lessons with his father in a different wood. Many years ago. His father had been an excellent sniper, but his social skills had been just as developed as the Major's.

Right now, his uncle got up from his seat and strode threateningly towards the petite woman. Butler rolled his eyes. The scare tactic. It was such an old one. His uncle was a bully, but she wouldn't be able to shoot him. Not even he had dared on his first try. Neither did she. She tossed her goggles to the ground, clearly agitated. But the lesson didn't seem to be over. His uncle turned around and ventured further into the forest. Butler waited for them to move along before he got up from his hiding place and silently followed them.

* * *

 **A/N** : And that's a wrap. Thank you so much for tuning in this week and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Also, good news, next week I'll be posting twice (yay!). Why? Because it's my birthday week and I wanted to treat you with my gooey chocolate brownies. I tried to get Spock to _beam_ them to you, but he is busy on some mission in a galaxy far, far away. So, instead, you'll get a brownie chapter. 😊

What can you expect? The chaos boulder is set into motion, hehe. Have a great day and see you next week...twice!


	13. Chapter 12

**Author's Note** **:** It's official, I am now decomposing. Should I invest in a compost bin or can I just lay in the garden and let the worms do their job? I am 30… that had never been the plan. I was planning to waste away at the age of 22, or 28 at the latest. Beautiful and pale. Not quarantined and eating chocolate…! But enough of myself. You are here for more Angel Conundrum. I shall very much like to oblige. Enjoy!

Also, a huge thank you to **tinytreehouse** for leaving kudos. You are amazing! 😊

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination and my characters.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Root had given the Haven News Channel an anonymous hint. It wouldn't take long for them to broadcast the news. Simultaneously, he had sent out orders to all officers to look for Stampa on the streets, but so far nobody had been able to find him. He had disappeared. Which was impossible.

Vinyáya cleared her throat, pointing to the TV. The news anchor, a sprite with bright green skin and long black hair, backcombed to a beehive as big as her head, appeared. She was sitting behind a massive news desk, beaming at the cameras as if she had no idea what she was about to drop on the nation.

"This is Karen Burdock, always in touch with the latest trends and news. As you know, my lovely audience, I can't keep any secrets from you, which is exactly why I have to interrupt my current program for an urgent news broadcast. Our news agency has information from a confidential source warning of a risk of unprecedented proportions," she said, her smile unfaltering.

"Our source has extensive documentation of an imminent attack, carried out by, I can't believe I am saying this, Mud Men! According to the documents our race may see the biggest attack ever. Currently, the Council has not taken any actions to either stop this from happening or to make sure that the Fairy People are kept from harm. My question is, what can _we_ do to keep safe?"

Root turned off the TV, his scowl ever increasing. He would have killed for a smoke and if it had been anyone else in the room, he would have gone ahead. Raine didn't like smoking. She never told him _not_ to smoke around her, but she was one of the few people he genuinely respected, so he refrained from it.

She was leaning against the table, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"Honestly, I didn't think the day would come that I was grateful for the bimbo's popularity," she said with a frown.

Root let out a barking laugh. "Let's hope it works."

As if on cue, the wing commander's phone began ringing. She glanced at the caller's ID before holding it up for Root to read. _Lopez._ So, the news had already spread to the Council. Good.

Vinyáya pushed away from the table. "Here we go."

"Good luck," Root simply said.

The wing commander crossed her fingers, giving Root an encouraging smile that didn't reach her eyes.

* * *

The Major marched through the forest, relentlessly pushing forward. He never turned to check if Sofia was still following, her stumbling attempts to keep up audible. She had pushed her hands under her armpits, grateful for every little bit of extra warmth for her numb fingertips. After tripping over yet another uprooted tree, she had put on the night goggles again, once the shadows had settled into complete darkness and couldn't make her freak out anymore. But seeing the path didn't save her from the damp underground seeping through her shoes and soaking her socks. The Major, on the other hand, hadn't even pushed his hands into his pockets. Sofia wondered how he kept the cold at bay.

"I-is it still far?" she asked, her teeth chattering. If they didn't turn around anytime soon, she was convinced she would freeze to death.

The Major didn't answer. He turned to the right after passing an unassuming tree. Everything looked the same to her. She had no idea how he knew where they were going. He wasn't even using a map. Regardless, eventually, the trees parted to an imposing castle in the distance. Sofia stopped, gaping.

"What is this?"

"Peles Castle," he finally answered.

"What is there?"

The Major didn't slow down, "Zmeu, according to Lucifer."

Sofia slipped once more, stepping into the stream that wound around the path leading to the castle. When they finally entered the courtyard, she was ready to bite someone. Nonetheless, she was awestruck by the intricate decorations of the building. She wished she could read about the origins of the castle or its history. She also wished she felt her feet again.

"Wh-who build this castle?"

The Major ignored her question. Instead, he stepped forward and pushed the wooden door open. It swung open silently. Sofia scurried inside, following the Major closely. The castle wasn't heated but it was warmer than outside.

"Why is the alarm not going off?"

"Someone is expecting us."

Sofia stopped in the entrance hall, ogling the faultless wood carvings, running along the walls. Her gaze drifted to a figure, standing at the top of the stairs. She flinched when she realized that he was not a statue. It was an imposing man, slightly greying, watching them. He opened his arms.

"You have made it. Splendid. Welcome to my castle. Make yourself at home."

The torches on the walls flickered to life, giving the hall a dull, flickering glow. The Major, unlike Sofia, wasn't impressed in the slightest. He walked up the stairs as if he was seeing such a demonstration every day.

Their host followed their every move from slanted eyes that lay sunken in a thin, long face. His lazy smile never faltered, although there was something else, something wild, flitting over it. As if he was on the lookout, waiting for them to make a mistake. One misstep.

"I received word that you might be interested in some of my memories," he turned to the Major, undressing him with his eyes. The Major eyed him cooly.

"And? Will you share them with us?"

Zmeu's smile widened. "But of course. Please, follow me."

He turned around and led them down a long corridor, stretching on for miles, then around corners, down staircases, deeper and deeper into the belly of the castle. The wall hangings didn't offer many different sceneries, either. As far as Sofia could tell, they all showed hunting parties with more and more explicit acts of violence. Foxes, fleeing from their hunters. A bear thrashing wildly in its imminent death. Stags on their hind legs, spears in their sides. Wild dogs ripping game apart in their jaws. A bear thrashing wildly in its imminent death. Sofia frowned. Another bear? The tapestry seemed strangely familiar. Hadn't they already passed it? Impossible, they hadn't walked in a circle, had they?

Sofia pulled her watch closer to her face, trying to read the time in the dim light. A knot forming in her stomach, when she registered the position of the watch hands. Four o'clock in the morning. There wasn't much time left.

The Major thought the same. He stopped when a familiar tug made him realize the trap.

"Is this panoramic trail leading some–," he started but didn't finish the sentence as his body faded away. Sofia gulped, blindly reaching for her pistol the moment that Zmeu turned around with a glint in his eyes.

"At last, alone," he smiled with a little bow of his head before he stepped towards her.

* * *

Tap- _tap-_ tap- _tap._ Artemis was tapping his foot in sync with the dripping tap. He'd have Butler repair it once he returned. Tap- _tap-_ tap- _tap._ He had finished his reading as well as the journal article, he was planning on sending to the Journal of Contemporary History on white supremacy in female-led indigenous communities. It would cause quite a stir. Naturally. He never delivered trifle content. Tap- _tap-_ tap- _tap._

He got up and paced the corridor up and down. 35 times. After the 36th time, he stopped in front of the professor's room. Artemis Fowl II wasn't one to snoop around. He didn't have to; his intellect was all he needed to make the right deductions. The reason, he pushed the door open was only to have a look at the documents she had brought with her from New York. Surely, she was working on another hilariously simple paper he could read to pass the time.

The professor was as chaotic in a foreign environment as she was at home. That included her writing. She had dumped her clothes on the chair in front of the desk, leaving the space on top of it free for the papers and translations of her project. Artemis picked some of them up, but soon realized he would have to put them in order himself if he wanted to read them. He wasn't _that_ interested in her writing. He dropped the papers and turned to leave when a glint blinded him. He turned to a golden ring next to the bedside lamp. The ring, Lucifer had put on the professor's finger and which had instantly recovered her health. Its powers had worked even faster than magic. He sauntered over to the bed and picked up the ring to examine it properly. The black stone shone brightly in the dim light.

"Extraordinary," he murmured, turning the shiny metal around in his hands. He was convinced that he would be able to extract its powers and use them for his purposes. It would have been helpful if he had access to his equipment at home to do the necessary tests. Maybe the professor would lend him the ring once this was over. And when he said lend, he meant, mentally bully her into making her _believe_ the idea had been her own. Satisfied, he was about to put the ring back where he had found it when he paused. It was a lovely ring. The golden metal had been expertly crafted. He wondered how it would look on his hand. Not because of pride. Because of the gold.

He slipped the signet ring on his thumb, enthralled by the golden shine. He saw his reflection in the black stone and it was as if the power of centuries was flowing through his veins. He knew _everything._ A maelstrom pulled him deeper and deeper into the secrets of the universe without him moving a muscle as he was frozen in place. A mad laugh started building in his chest as his mind explored every inch of Lucifer's ring.

* * *

Butler had been crawling through the thicket, pursuing the two until they disappeared in the castle. The older man hadn't been planning to let them come along, then. Butler could feel his blood boiling in anger by the repeated betrayal. Without giving up his cover, the bodyguard stopped at a hedge from which he could observe any movement around the castle. But everything kept quiet.

The last time in New York, he had been hacking into the camera system of the library. This time he was on his own. Walking into an unknown building was a nightmare. It was asking for an ambush. He had considered this possibility and had checked the heat camera in his goggles. The castle walls were thick and he couldn't see far inside, but no immediate hordes of gunmen were waiting for him. He took his chances and moved closer to the walls, looking through the windows and searching for an easy entry. The lights of the torches inside made it harder to keep hidden.

This was the worst place to continue shadowing the pair. Maybe that was exactly what his uncle had planned. Butler checked his watch. Five minutes to four in the morning. This mission had been taking the whole night. Grinding his teeth, he tentatively pushed one of the windows open. It gave way. Suspicious. He didn't like this one bit.

Hoisting himself up the ledge, Butler swung into the castle. He crouched, shifting his weight to easily jump up in case of an attack. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he listened intently for any noises. He tried the heat camera once more to check for anyone close by. There was a faint voice coming from a distance. Butler moved along the corridor and down a level, following it. He hid behind the statue of an enormous armour at the foot of the staircase. The voice of his uncle drifted closer and he dared a glance down the corridor at the broad-shouldered form of the older man.

"Is this panoramic trail leading some–," he began before his body started to fade away.

Butler gaped at the space where his uncle had been standing a few seconds before. He had vanished into thin air. Literally. Had this been a trick? He looked over his shoulder, expecting the Major to appear behind him, ready to chastise him for the clumsy execution of a job. But he didn't show up.

"Stay where you are," he heard the professor say. The slight shake in her voice gave her away, though.

The job of a bodyguard meant that some decisions had to be made in a matter of seconds, sometimes on a whim. This was such a moment. Butler stepped out from the shadows and revealed himself, making the professor flinch by the unexpected movement to her right. She hunched her shoulders, while Zmeu knit his eyebrows in annoyance.

"He was about to ask if it is still far," Butler finished his uncle's sentence, overplaying his confusion over the disappearing act.

"Who are you? And why were you sneaking around in the shadows?" Zmeu asked, suspicion dancing in his eyes at the sight of the newcomer. The professor hadn't lowered her hands, the pistol still pointed at him, while she stared at Butler.

"Backup. I couldn't find a parking space," Butler said with a straight face. Zmeu snorted unconvinced, but recovered from his shock and stepped back.

"Fine, come then."

The bodyguard joined the professor, who kept staring at him.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered.

Butler locked eyes with her, his anger barely masked. "Saving your sorry ass."

She gaped at him, unable to shoot back a clever response. Butler didn't wait for an answer but turned towards the man in his velvet suit, who pushed the bear wall hanging aside and disappeared behind it.

Wrapped in a cocoon of darkness, Butler descended several stone steps. He held on to the walls, the stone cold and wet under his fingers until the brightness increased once more. First, he thought it would be another wall lined with torches. But it wasn't the torches which lit up the space. It was gold. Butler swallowed, momentarily blinded by the shine. Wherever he looked, wherever he stepped. Gold. Coins. Jewellery. Statues. He was walking on a mountain of wealth, the riches clinking with his every step. Holly's ransom had been a lot of gold. This, however, was otherworldly.

He heard his own steps on the gold and he heard the professor behind him, but he couldn't make out Zmeu's step anywhere. Zmeu had disappeared.

"Where is the guy?" Sofia asked behind him. Butler gritted his teeth and whipped his head around, but the man was nowhere to be seen. A cold breeze tickled his neck and he lifted his head.

A whoosh above their heads announced a reptile body, wreathing through the air. The reptile looped itself around a golden throne on top of another mountain of coins, jewellery and riches. It rolled its tail out, flipping it from side to side. It was the first time, either of them had come face to face with a dragon. Both had enough experience with _other_ fantastical creatures, but introduce another species into the mix and you can blow minds.

Butler stared at the massive smirking head that lowered itself to their eye level. It was him, wasn't it? The eyes were the same, albeit three times as big, sitting wickedly within the creature's rounded, scaled skull, while a row of small horns ran down the sides of its jawlines. Several huge teeth poked out from the side of its mouth, an unmistakable promise of the terror hiding inside.

"I can help you find what you seek, _children_ ," he said with a booming voice.

Butler and Sofia waited in anticipation, but Zmeu didn't continue.

"But?" Sofia pressed on.

"How will you pay me?"

Sofia scoffed. "Lucifer didn't mention any kind of payment."

"Oh, but shouldn't you know by now that nothing in this life comes for free?"

She crossed her arms in defence, regaining some of her bravado. "And what could you want that you don't already have? More gold?"

Zmeu chuckled. "More gold is always nice. But no, no amount will satisfy me, I am afraid. You can give me something else, though."

Butler raised an eyebrow. The name _Zmeu_ had rung a bell ever since it was mentioned in the hotel. A very tiny bell in the back of his mind. He had heard the name before, but he couldn't remember where.

"A night," the dragon's voice boomed from the walls.

"A night?" Sofia frowned in confusion. A night of what?

The dragon's smirk became wider, showing a row of sharp teeth. "A night with me."

* * *

 **A/N** : Dun-dun-duuuun! Zmeu is a hoot, I love him dearly. I wouldn't necessarily want him as my flatmate, but I love writing him.

Do you want to know how Butler and Sofia are going to react to that deal? You can find out… this Thursday (!). So, tune in and as always, comments, kudos, pigeon post, electronic morse codes, everything is welcome and will result in a very happy writer.

Have a great day and see you next time.


	14. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:** Hello, my beautiful readers and welcome to another chapter of Angel Conundrum. Before you start, quick note, there will be a brief allusion to non-consensual activities in this chapter. Nothing explicit, though.

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination and my characters.

* * *

**Chapter 13**

The polished marble gravestone reflected the moonlight, the name of the deceased ablaze with light. A graveyard. A bit melodramatic, but he preferred the silence of the dead. No begging, no sobbing, no getting on his nerves.

Ananiel hadn't wanted to come, his powers were far from what they used to be. Their new dietary changes had improved their health manifold, but Lucifer wasn't like any other angel. He had been an archangel and still bore many of those powers in him.

He sat on a square stone sarcophagus and waited. Lucifer would be late. Even after centuries of existence, the arrogant angel wasn't above such childishness. Nor Heaven nor Hell had been able to humble the Morningstar enough. There was no-

"Ananiel, what a pleasant surprise. Have you been waiting long?" Lucifer's silky voice wound itself around his mind like a vice.

Lucifer's snow-white wings rustled against the earth as he walked around the stone structure and settled a few feet away on the base of a stone angel with outstretched arms. Ananiel stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

"How is the new diet going?" Lucifer asked casually. The older angel hid his surprise with a cough. Lucifer smirked, viewing his manicured fingernails. "Word travels fast."

The angel with the golden wings recovered and shrugged as if he didn't care.

"And now you want a piece of the cake?"

His brother scoffed. "Please, I might be fallen, but I am not corrupted. I am not in need of restoring my powers."

"Our task was clear from the beginning. Purify the world from all evil," Ananiel said gravely.

Clouds moved in front of the moon, hiding Lucifer's face in the shadows as he laughed mirthlessly. "And look where it has led you, brother. Your wings can hardly carry you anymore, can't they? I am offering you an easy way out. Swear your allegiance to me and you can rule in this world, instead of hunting for scraps."

Ananiel held up his hands in peace. "Isn't it time that we lay our differences down?"

"You kidnapped my demon," Lucifer spat out, clenching his fists.

"Not before you killed Jophiel, Manakel and Sachael. To name a few. I am sure, you see why we had to take some precautions to assure our safety."

Grinding his teeth, Lucifer remained silent, throwing his brother a dismissive look.

"We can get back to Heaven. Home, Lucifer," Ananiel suddenly announced.

Lucifer's heart skipped a beat. So, it was true then. The scholar had been right. He snorted, overplaying his agitation.

" _Your_ home. I was cast out, remember? And then imprisoned for an eternity by my brother. My _own_ brother punished me for rebelling," Lucifer hissed. The anger made his eyes turn black. The temperature around them seemed to drop several degrees. "Forgive me for not jumping up and down in excitement."

The other angel hesitated, his angelic features unreadable. "Michael was never like us, Lucifer. He followed his orders, blindly. And he was slain. But his end doesn't have to be all bad. His sacrifice might be our way home. Our family finally reuniting."

"Michael is dead?"

Lucifer's anger fizzled out, his eyes returning to their normal brown colour. Somewhere, an owl screamed. It sounded like a mockery. Ananiel nodded, his face a calm mask. For the first time, Lucifer wondered, if he had underestimated his brother's ruthlessness. How could he talk about killing Michael so casually? Then again, it had been a long time ago.

"What are your plans then?"

"Michael's sword. We were supposed to return once we finished this task. It is still in Jericho. All we need is to open a portal to Heaven with it."

Lucifer frowned. "What about the Cleansing Fire?"

"That was the initial plan, yes. But we need more time, more fairy blood for it to work. The supply is less than satisfactory. They live underground and only come out every so often. You, however," he turned to Lucifer. "You haven't been corrupted by mortal blood. You would be able to use the sword's powers. You could be the true Lightbringer to your kind and we can all go home."

Home. It was too much to even fantasize about it. Lucifer shook his head. "I am not welcome there anymore."

Ananiel jumped up and grabbed him by the shoulders. "If God can forgive those lowly mortals, why not his own children?"

Lucifer shook the hands off and shooting up, fled into the shadows of the statue, hiding his face. He couldn't see the triumphant gleam in Ananiel's eyes.

"Don't decide now, brother. Give it a thought. I will set your demon free if you still want to spend eternity in Hell with him."

The white-winged angel swallowed hard, feeling dizzy. No, an eternity in Hell, even with Yonatan wasn't an option, was it? Not even with Yonatan?

"I'll think about it," he said hoarsely, opened his wings and shot into the night sky.

* * *

The Major blinked. A fine rain of soot landed on his head and shoulders. He was back in Hell. Again. It was a fluid transition. One moment he was in the castle, the next he was wandering the big and empty planes together with all the other souls. He was one of the lucky ones. His hand wrapped around the blue stone around his neck, glowing against his weather-beaten skin and keeping him save. His instinct told him to keep moving regardless.

Five feet to his left a yalayi was feeding on what looked like a middle-aged businessman, ripping chunks of meat from the body. The creature lifted its head and hissed at him. He stared back unimpressed, but turned away eventually and walked towards an old and gnarled tree. He knew this was nothing more than a sick illusion. He would walk and walk and walk and never reach anywhere.

And still, he walked. There was nothing else to do in this dead place. Everything was dead. The people, their thoughts, the surroundings. He was the oldest being walking among the dead. Nobody could have outrun the beasts as long as he had. He was a Butler after all. If someone could break the cycle, it would be him.

He stopped in mid-step and gave the thought some attention. Not for the first time, of course. The Major had passed away several years ago, the thought of breaking out of Hell had crossed his mind a few times. Not when he was on the run, but since he had been protecting the woman, Sofia. He remembered how she sat one night in her kitchen, eating a bowl of cornflakes and ripped up croissants.

"Did you know that Abraham Lincoln had the same morning routine for pretty much all his life? And look where it got him in the end," she ate noisily, a book in her lap.

Half the time he thought she was mad. This time was no different. "You are drunk."

She rolled her eyes. "The rut kills you in the end. If you keep eating cornflakes in the morning, one day they'll shoot you in the head. You know what I mean?"

He didn't at that moment, but it had made him stop in Hell. Instead of walking from one dead tree to the next to the next to the next, he had paused. Only for a split moment. The thought almost immediately forgotten. But he picked it up a few nights later and then again, a few nights after that.

First, he had only survived. There had been no time to waste on any thoughts at all in the past. His instincts had been guiding him, overriding any possible thoughts. But now the monstrosities no longer chased after him every minute.

The Major hadn't been big on emotions and compassion. Neither in life nor death. But even he was sick of this place by now. His mind told him he should have been going mad. He hadn't slept in... in a very long time. He had once gone four days without sleep, during a mission in the Kongo. This, however, was different. At one point he was convinced that he had been wounded and his mind was making up these pictures to cope with the situation. Sometimes he told himself he was just in a long coma. The Major could never delude himself for long, though.

He turned his head skywards, his eyes searching for the sun or the moon or the stars. Out of habit. It had been one of his first thoughts as he regained awareness to orientate himself in this place. But the sky was empty. Empty, apart from the cloud of soot raining down of its own accord.

The Major reached the tree with a once white cloth wrapped around it. By now he was used to the sight. He had fastened it around one of the tree's branches, thinking it would help him navigate around. His fist curled and uncurled in a rare burst of emotion. It was the same he ended up at, once he began his march from the tree. Somehow, he walked in a circle without ever changing directions. He had to try something different.

Pushing the gravel around with his foot, he wondered what lay beneath. If there was no way for him to use the heaven nor the earth, maybe there was something below. He dropped to his knees and shoved his fingers deep into the dry soil, churning it up for the first time in centuries.

* * *

"A night," the dragon's voice boomed from the walls.

"A night?" Sofia frowned in confusion. A night of what?

The dragon's smirk became wider, showing a row of sharp teeth. "A night with me."

Sofia choked, coughing violently, while Butler remembered why the name had been so familiar. He had heard the name many years ago. On one of the rare occasions, when his mother had put him to bed, she had told him the story of a horny and greedy dragon, stealing maidens and hoarding gold. Strange choice for a bedtime story, but funny how this knowledge came in handy in his late thirties.

The huffing laugh of the dragon echoed from the walls.

"Don't look so shocked. It is not such a far-fetched offer. I am happy to share my bed with both of you. I don't have any preferences regarding your sex and you two you will have the time of your life. I guarantee it."

Butler had a hard time keeping his face from derailing. He didn't remember _that_ part from his mother's fairy tales. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

"I hope you are joking," Sofia managed, once she recovered from her shock. The next time she saw Lucifer, he would pay for this. She wished the Major could have been there with them. He would know what to do. Maybe he'd punch the dragon in the face until he spilt his secrets.

The dragon enjoyed their confusion. His tail, which had been wagging from side to side, began moving up Butler's leg. The bodyguard took a distinctive step away. Zmeu's tail whipped around, faster than Butler or Sofia would have thought possible. It wrapped itself around the woman's waist, yanking her closer. The reptile jumped from his throne and morphing into the middle-aged man again, came to a halt in front of her. The tail vanished, releasing her from its grip. Sofia stumbled back.

" _Calma_! Who says your information is even worth my time?"

"Trust me, all my information is worth anyone's time," Zmeu grinned and touched a strand of her wild hair. She pushed the hand away.

Think, think, Sofia ordered herself. Her eyes scanned her surroundings. Anything that they could use to keep him at a distance? Everything gleamed goldenly. Coins, jewellery, statues, apples… _Apples_?

Blinking, Sofia stepped around the man and scrambled up the low slope to the throne. Scattered around it like simple bric-a-brac were indeed a handful of golden apples. She picked one of them up. It wasn't possible.

"Golden apples," she breathed.

"They are pretty, aren't they? I'll give you one, pretty girl," she heard the dragon's voice behind her.

Butler positioned himself between the dragon and the professor, glancing over his shoulder to where she was crouching. What were they talking about?

Zmeu, in the meantime, had slithered closer to Butler, licking his lips as the bodyguard tried to stare him down.

"I think, we will have a lot of fun. Share the bed with me and I will not only share my memories of the Nephilim but also gift you a golden apple."

The bodyguard shook his head at the same time as Sofia's "Deal."

"Are you out of your mind?" Butler boomed, whirling around to where she stood. Zmeu's slanted eyes twinkled with joy as he lifted his hands peacefully.

"I am not jealous. It is a silly sentiment. You shouldn't be either; you can still join if you like. Let me know when you are ready."

He disappeared behind a coin slope, while Butler stomped to where Sofia was standing.

"What the hell, Professor?"

She didn't even look up from her apple. "Do you have any idea what this is?"

He grabbed the apple and hurled it into the distance, withstanding her glare.

"I don't care what it is. I will not be blackmailed to sleep with this madman and neither will you."

His scowl could have competed with his uncle's but Sofia sighed in exasperation. "That is not for you to decide."

"You cannot be serious!"

She picked up another apple from the ground, but Butler wrestled it out of her hand once more.

"Stop that. There will be other ways to find out more about the angels. What the heck is so special about these apples, anyway?"

"What are we discussing here? If you don't want to sleep with him, don't. He didn't seem to mind. I don't have such scruples," she huffed.

"Scruples? We are talking about rape."

Sofia straightened up to her full height. She barely reached Butler's chest.

"It's not rape if it's consensual. Which is _not_ the point. I appreciate the concern, but I can assure you, I have made up my mind. I'll take the apple and the information. End of discussion."

Butler clenched his fist, suppressing his urge to smash something. Ideally the sleazy dragon. He wondered if she was under some sort of spell.

"You _cannot_ do this!" He tried to not shout.

"And why can't I? Because I should only sleep with someone I _love?"_ she drew invisible quotation marks into the air. "That is a very noble belief, but I don't care much for such notions. I prefer knowledge and the golden apple for that matter."

She turned and the dragon man appeared from nowhere next to Butler.

"Have you changed your mind? I can make your world stop," he said, touching Butler's arm. Sofia made a face.

"First the information."

Zmeu smiled, letting his eyes wander Butler's form up and down, appreciatingly. "But of course."

He lifted his arm and spectres of light began floating around, mirrored by the gleaming coins around them. The outlines of an ancient settlement morphed in the air.

"When the Nephilim came to Earth, they began living in the ancient city of Jericho. They were divine and they were one. What one did, the other did. What one suffered, the other suffered. But all changed when they no longer slew the humans."

Shadows of miniature angels were flying through the air. Small figurines below them threw themselves at their feet in fear.

"Once they started to drink from the mortals, they no longer wanted to be united but rather be single beings. They were tired of following each other. They decided to overthrow their leader, the Honourable One. Archangel Michael," he said, his face becoming sombre as if remembering a painful memory.

"They gave up their souls to be free from the power of Michael's sword and to decide their own fate."

The outline of a golden angel was attacked by several dark ones. Sofia held her breath, following the fight that the Archangel ultimately lost.

"They slew him, stole his sword and locked it away in the Temple of Jericho. They turned their backs on it and never came back," he finished. He stopped talking, far away in another time and another place.

"How can we stop the Nephilim?" Sofia finally asked.

Zmeu's sad look slowly turned thoughtful. "The one powerful enough to wield Michael's sword will bring them under control again."

"Where is this sword now?" Sofia had more questions than answers. The dragon's explanation had helped but they were no step further than before. His familiar leer returned on his face.

"So many questions. How do you want to pay for those?" he eyed Butler up and down.

Sofia held up her hand. "I'll figure it out myself."

"Then let's move to the enjoyable part of this transaction, shall we?" he held out his hand to her. She ignored it. She believed he really meant what he proposed, but now she hesitated.

Come on, she cheered herself on. Odin gave his right eye for more knowledge. She could get eternal life for herself and her family. It was a bargain.

"Lead the way," she said, sounding more confident than she felt. The dragon grinned and gestured them to follow.

"You can watch," he promised Butler.

"You can't," murmured Sofia under her breath, suddenly feeling feverish.

It wasn't that big a deal. It was just sex. People did it all the time, she was just out of practice. She thought of the apple, the reason she was doing this. Judging by her experience, Zmeu would finish in five minutes, maybe less. What were five minutes for an eternity? Her sweaty palms were simply in anticipation for the reward later.

Butler felt sick to the stomach. This was nothing he had ever trained for during his time in the Academy. He knew what he would do if he had been in the same situation with Artemis. And Artemis would have had a plan that wouldn't have included any of this nonsense. His code of honour stated he had to save a woman in need, it said nothing about a woman who didn't want to be saved. Or crazy ones that traded sexual favours for golden apples. An _apple_. His cooking might have not been vegetarian-friendly, but it wasn't _that_ bad! He wondered if he could shoot the dragon in the back, throw her over his shoulder and make a dash for the exit. He followed the pair further into the lair, his eyes scanning every corner of the room, evaluating any possible escape route.

They stopped in front of a canopied bed in the middle of a sea of gold coins. Zmeu turned and gave Butler a wink. "Changed your mind, yet? You look like you could use some relaxation."

He didn't get an answer, so he stretched his hand out to the woman. "Time for some lovemaking, my dear."

Zmeu gripped her wrist and dragged her the last few feet to the bed. He threw her unceremoniously onto it, where she landed on her belly. The dragon was on her in no time, grabbing the hem of her dress and pushed it up. Not worth it, Sofia decided.

"Stop! I changed my mind, I am _not_ okay with this," she squealed in protest and struggled against the weight of the dragon on her back. It was enough incentive for Butler to react. He crossed the few feet to the bed and grabbed Zmeu by his neck.

That was very chivalrous of him. He was, however, unfamiliar with the dragon's inhuman anatomy and thus, unaware of the several pleasure points scattered over his body. One of them, as you might have guessed, at the back of his neck.

So, while Butler was able to stop the attack, he also, ah, fulfilled their side of the deal. Zmeu let go of the struggling Sofia, who wiggled free from underneath him. She rolled over and brought as much space between her and the dragon.

Zmeu groaned while Butler kept his grip of steel in place, wrongly concluding that the sounds were those of pain. Sofia frowned, looking closer at the dragon in front of her. He didn't seem to mind the interruption. At all. In fact, the look on his face was blissful. Something was off.

Butler pulled the dragon away from the bed, who started to tremble and groan again. In pleasure. Sofia's mouth dropped open, but the words wouldn't come. That wasn't necessary as Butler, too, realized what was happening. He dropped his hand away from the dragon's neck as if it was scalding hot. Zmeu shook violently and dropped to the floor, completely detached from the reality around him.

Sofia crept to the edge of the bed, darting a glance to the dragon writhing in orgasmic spasms on the floor. She lifted her gaze to meet Butler's, who had jumped back in horror. A vein in his temple began to throb as he clenched his jaw, mortified.

"If you ever speak of this to _anyone…"_ He didn't finish the sentence. There was no need.

They left the castle in silence. Sofia had taken the golden apple with her. Technically, she hadn't completed the task herself, but Butler didn't protest. He wanted to forget this ever happened as fast as possible. He also wanted to know where his uncle had disappeared to but refused to speak another word as long as they were in the castle.

Sofia held on to the apple like a charm. Which it was in a way. The smooth surface felt metallic to the touch. She wondered if she should just bite into it, but decided to wait for a quiet minute to examine it properly.

The moment they stepped out of the castle Butler wanted them back into the woods and out of sight of any onlookers, who decided to take a morning stroll to the countryside. He placed a hand on the professor's back and half pushed, half guided her back into the thicket before letting her walk by herself. Increasing his tempo, he marched hard through the forest, determined to bring as much space between himself and the dragon as possible. Trying to keep up with the taller man, Sofia kept her gaze to the path, her surroundings rushing by in blurry lines. Then Butler stopped abruptly and she collided with his back.

"My uncle," he started, without turning.

He had no idea, she realized. Not that she knew much more if she thought about it. She put the apple in her jacket pocket, without letting go of it.

"Is he still human? Or is he an angel or a dragon or a demon?"

She didn't know what to tell him. Technically, she wasn't obliged to answer at all, she reminded herself. It wasn't like she owed him. Apart from sparing her from being bedded by a dragon. She decided on the truth.

"He is human. I just don't know if... if he is alive anymore."

Butler turned around a question in his eyes. Sofia opened her mouth, searching for words. Less dreadful than the ones on the tip of her tongue. Where was she supposed to start? At the way the tendrils of terror had curled around her heart, the first time he had stepped out of the shadows? The oh so subtle cloudy eyes? His face that could have been chiselled into stone, not even the ghost of a smile ever flitting over it? He sure as hell was not the life-of-the-party kind of guy. But what did she know? It could have been a job requirement for bodyguards.

She met his gaze. "There is no life... I mean, he doesn't eat or drink and he is extremely strong. And cold."

Butler snorted. "He was always cold."

"But he is different? From whenever you have seen him last?"

He didn't answer. Vanishing into thin air? Yes, that was new.

He started to walk towards the safe house, slower this time. Sofia hesitated, she wished she could have told him something more cheerful. There seemed to be a lot of unresolved issues in their family. And the Major acting as if he'd burn to ashes if he showed even the slightest glimpse of compassion didn't help. Before they reached the entrance, she caught up with him and tapped his arm lightly.

"Back there, I... it was nice what you did... and... I didn't mean for you to...," she stumbled over the words.

One corner of his mouth lifted into a wry half-smile. "You are _welcome,_ Professor."

A nervous giggle bubbled up in her chest, but she pushed it down and followed him inside.

* * *

 **A/N** : I just want to say, this is obviously a light-hearted work of fiction and exists to entertain and make people laugh. At the same time, I am not trying to make fun of sexual assault and don't want to upset anyone. Let me just say this: Your body belongs to you and cannot be sold, no matter what. Also, it's okay to say "No", even if you said "Yes" first. Stay safe.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comments and kudos are always appreciated. Next time it will be less drama and more scheming. Promise. Have a great day and see you next time.


	15. Chapter 14

**Author's Note:** Hello, my beautiful readers and welcome to another chapter of Angel Conundrum that nearly would have not happened today, because I deleted half of the chapter sometime in the past and couldn't recover the old version. Thankfully, I did find one of my first drafts and spent the whole day, trying to remember how the whole thing played out in the end. And the lesson today? Copies. Make lots of copies. Of chapters, stories, your life. You get the gist. And now, please enjoy this chapter!

Also, a huge thank you to everybody who has left kudos during the last week. Knowing that I can bring some entertainment to you means the world to me! You are the best!

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination and my characters.

* * *

**Chapter 14**

Lucifer kept pacing back and forth, glaring at the darkened stone walls in his throne room. Throne room. The angel snorted. This place was a shithole! It hadn't been always like this, of course. When he first set foot in this place, it looked a bit rundown and abandoned. But over time, as if to mock him, the palace had started to rot.

His once red-shining bronze throne had turned black and no cleaning was able to bring it back to its original state. Lucifer reached the foul-smelling monstrosity and with a snarl turned around again, striding to the very far end of the hall. The meeting with his brother had shaken him more than he would have liked. To be able to return home. Was it possible? Or a cruel lie? Perhaps, it was all Michael's plan and he pretended to be dead? He hadn't seen him in the last 10 years, true, but that might be part of his elaborate ruse. Maybe his job wasn't to cleanse the world but to make sure that he, Lucifer, remained banished from home.

And why was the scholar not sending him anything? The ring should have already done its magic on her little mortal brain. He had to know her loyalty to him. Had to know if she was working for or against him. But she kept him waiting. He hated when they made him wait. Once upon a time, he would have zapped them and turned to another minion. These days he couldn't afford such short temper. He needed all the help he could get.

A torch, mounted on the wall, flickered to life with a blue flame. Lucifer stopped in his tracks and rushed to the moving flame. The face he saw in it, was not the scholar. He recognized it as the young boy from the hotel. The youth's eyes darted from side to side as if he was appreciating a piece of art. Not the right person, but maybe he had some news for him.

"Spill it," he demanded.

The face that moved with the flame shone blueish in the darkness. The glassy-eyed boy pursed his lips. "We are in Romania. They have left the house."

Lucifer nodded. At least they had managed this much.

"Have they said anything? Has _she_ said anything? Is she planning on overthrowing me? She isn't working together with my brother, is she?" His voice stumbled over the words to get them all out at once.

The boy shook his head. "She hasn't unveiled any of her plans."

Lucifer ground his teeth. But she had plans, hadn't she? Of course, she had. Pretending to be Miss Goody Two-Shoes, trying to save the world or whatever. Clenching his fist at his side, he had to admit that she _had_ figured out what his siblings were up to. Or had she? What if she was working with Michael, setting up a trap for him? Feeding him enough information to keep him happy and out of the picture for long enough until it was too late?

Lucifer's shoulders stiffened as his thoughts were reeling. He needed to outrun his brother. Get the sword, before anyone else did.

"Keep your eyes and ears open and let me know as soon as you know more. Take the ring off until then, child."

The boy's face vanished and Lucifer was alone once more. Utterly alone. The revelation came crashing down on him with the force of a tsunami. With a strangled cry, he punched the wall, sending a sudden flash of pain through his arm and reducing him to a bundle of pitiful moans on the ground.

* * *

Neither Butler nor the professor had been very talkative about what had happened in the castle. The Major hadn't returned with them either. All in all, they acted suspiciously, but Artemis knew Butler would share anything important with him. He could always pry it from Butler later, of course. So, for the moment, he let it go and focused on the problem at hand.

They had to get to Jericho. The ancient city of Jericho, of course, no longer existed as Artemis knew. The oldest known settlement had been destroyed nearly 4000 years ago before the city was rebuilt a short distance away. The current location of the _modern_ city of Jericho.

Most of the archaeological sites had been excavated at the end of the 19th century. Any artefacts of importance had been retrieved and taken to museums all over the world, particularly France, Great Britain and Germany. If the sword that Zmeu had talked about had been left behind in Jericho, chances were high that it was part of an exhibition in a museum, glorifying colonialism and the superiority of old white man with outrageously big moustaches.

"There was no such thing as an Archangel's Sword in the findings of any Palestinian excavations", Artemis stated. "Are you sure he said Jericho?"

Sofia sat cross-legged on the armchair, still wearing her jacket, a hand wrapped around the apple in her pocket. She nodded.

"He did and it does fit with the scripts. The oldest settlement known to mankind is Jericho. What if people inhabited the houses the Nephilim left behind? Maybe even learned something from them?"

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "If history has proven anything, then that humans didn't _embrace_ foreign cultures _._ If they found the settlement they most likely destroyed it as soon as they stumbled upon it."

Making a noncommittal sound, Sofia remembered the university trip to the ancient site of Jericho. Hardly anyone had listened to the tour guide, a middle-aged man with a white umbrella that he stuck high into the air. Touring during the lunch hours through the ruins with the sun burning their necks didn't help to retain any of the information the bored man shouted over his shoulder. The students were more interested in trying to find shelter in the shade of the remaining city walls. Sofia sat up, her back popping so loudly that even Artemis winced.

"Jericho was the first town with a protective city wall," she recalled aloud.

"Double-walled, actually," Artemis nodded. The wall protected the people from any foreign human tribes. What if it hadn't been humans they wanted to keep out? Artemis knew what she was thinking.

"You assume the walls were built to keep the angels out. Which could mean the Jericho we are looking for is somewhere else."

Butler had finished preparing food and sat in one corner, watching the two tossing wild ideas at each other. The professor had leaned her head back against the armchair's headrest and stared at the ceiling.

"Then where is the real Jericho? The whole place has been unearthed. There is not an ounce that hasn't been part of at least a hundred digs," she argued. She wasn't exaggerating. Anything in a ten-mile radius around Jerusalem had been ploughed. She had even taken part in some of the excavations herself.

Artemis went into his mind palace, retrieving a map of Israel. It materialized in front of his eyes. Willing it to show him the excavations from the last 300 years, tiny red dots began to appear on the map. A big cluster of red centred around Jerusalem, a point of high interest for historians, keen on finding out more about the city's history, geology and archaeological importance. However, the further he moved away from Jerusalem, the less red dots he saw.

"What about Mitzpe Ramon?", he said suddenly.

"What about it?"

The place was somewhere in the Israeli desert. Sofia had a basic idea where the place was, only because there had been a stabbing at the time she had been in Jerusalem and it had been big on the news.

"After considering the number of excavations in Israel, the only possible place would be within a radius of approximately 6 miles. There is only one place in Israel, where this is applicable. Mitzpe Ramon. It doesn't take a genius to figure this out, but it helps."

Sofia blinked. She hadn't seen him pull out a map.

"You are making this assumption on what kind of information?"

Artemis tapped his forehead.

"All in here, Professor. If you have the information in a safe place you don't need to rely on any unreliable resources."

"Do you trust your mind enough to make that journey?", she asked and squinted her eyes at him, certain he meant her with that comment.

Artemis grinned his vampire smile and stood. "I do, Professor. If you can get ready in the next hour? That would be very helpful."

Checking twice if he was serious, Sofia eventually moved to the bedrooms and began packing her clothes. Or rather, she stuffed them into her bag without much success. Clothes couldn't expand in size and still, she could never re-pack her bags. Moving to the desk, she picked up the documents and made one uneven pile of it, which she then pushed into the folder.

Once she was finished, her hand flew to the golden apple in her jacket to check if it still was there. She pulled it out, watching the shine in the light of day and running her thumb over the smooth surface. Should she wait until she got back home? That would have been the sensible thing to do. But she had waited so long for it, she couldn't wait another five minutes. Bringing it up to her mouth, she bit into it. Her teeth connected to solid metal and nearly broke on the hard surface. Suppressing a scream, she held her mouth in pain.

Had the dragon tricked her? Her pulse fastened. The apple didn't even have a dent, she noticed as she examined the spot, she had bitten into. It was completely made of gold.

Had she made a mistake? No, there had been no mistake. No trick. This was the real deal. It simply meant she couldn't bite into it to gain immortality. There had to be a ritual. Of course, there always was a ritual. _Calma, ragazza._

Sofia forced herself to calm down. It was a small setback. She had all the pieces. Once she had some quiet time, she would unravel this one as well. Easy. She carefully touched her front teeth, checking if she had knocked them loose. Hurt like hell, but seemed fine. Thankfully! Would have been kind of hard to explain how she knocked her teeth out while packing.

The apple disappeared in her jacket as she closed the door behind her, the picture of perfect innocence.

* * *

He counted twenty-two. Twenty-two different patterns hitting the pavement close to where he was laying. Some were springy, happy, quickly passing by. Others heavy, pushed down by an unseen force. Sebastian shivered, gravel digging into his cheeks and side. But he held still. If he concentrated on the passing sounds, he could keep the voice out of his head. New footsteps approached and Sebastian looked for words to describe it. Fast, quick, rushing.

_Sebastian._

A low whimper escaped him. No, he wouldn't listen to it. He had to fight it. He began to count.

_Sebastian, don't make me angry._

"Two thousand three hundred and five. Two thousand three hundred and six," he whispered, pressing his head down hard. The pain made the voice go fainter.

_That won't work, my little friend. Your body and mind belong to me. You can fight it, but you can never win. I can make this very pleasant for you, but I can also make you suffer._

All of a sudden, Sebastian was aboveground, warm wind blowing hair out of his face. He was standing among big stone pillars, one elf among many, wandering between white marbled buildings. And it wasn't just elves. Pixies, centaurs and angels were all living peacefully together in a desert city.

It had to be an illusion, he thought. He _knew_ he was still underground in relative safety. It had to be an illusion, his analytical mind argued. He couldn't be aboveground, could he?

A figure walked up to him. An angel with midnight blue wings. The angel, who had attacked him. Sebastian's instinct told him to recoil, but how could he flinch back from such a nice smiling man? He even opened his arms to greet him.

"Don't you wish this could be reality, my friend?"

Sebastian nodded, tears filling his eyes.

"Don't cry. You can make this dream come true. You know you can. Don't you?"

The elf nodded again, a foreign revelation fulfilling him. He could make a difference. He could make his people go aboveground and live in peace. If he helped the angels to take over the world. He only had to make a small sacrifice. A sacrifice?

"What sacrifice?" he asked out loud.

The angel's smile vanished, replaced by pure malice. "Bring me more of your kind. Serve me, little one and I will reward you. I will make you a king."

Sebastian swallowed hard at the command. Could he do that? Bring them more fairies? He should have shouted at the angel, rage at him to leave him alone, but he didn't move a muscle.

The winged beast was lying. The beast would never reward him. He might not kill him, but he wouldn't make him a king, either. Sebastian didn't even want to be a king. He wanted to study stones. Not turning his back on his people and sentencing them to death. A sob escaped him.

"Go and do as I told you," the angel commanded, while his form and the surroundings became blurrier and more transparent.

"Wait!" Sebastian shouted. "They are looking for me. They know I am… no longer… myself."

The angel's disembodied voice echoed inside of Sebastian's head.

"Go home, I am sure your parents are missing you."

Sebastian faltered, the face of his old parents flashing before his eyes. The illusion of the old city disappeared completely, together with the dreadfully dangerous angel. He was back in his hideout, behind the dumpster in the side alley. The elf rose from the pavement with shaking knees. Home. He had to go home. To his parents. They would miss him and be worried about him. He took a step toward the street.

He would doom them, he thought suddenly. He would not only cause the death of his race but also of his parents. Nausea hit him. His knees buckled and he dropped back to the ground.

Would the police be able to stop him if her surrendered? The officer. Short, wasn't it? Captain Short. A capable police officer. She hadn't been scared. Instead, she had stood her ground. She could put an end to it. If he went back, she would detain him. He would have to go to court, but at least he wouldn't kill anyone.

New determination filled the geologist and he stepped on to the street. Retracing his steps, he walked back to the hospital from which he had fled by jumping out of the window. That jump. He had surprised himself by landing on his feet as if he did that kind of stunt every day. He had never been good at sports and avoided it, whenever he could. So, the heightened physical abilities must have come with the voices as a result of his violent encounter with the angel.

Lost in thought, he almost bumped into the police officer on watch in one of the alleyways. Sebastian jumped back in a big leap, again taken aback by this sudden physical strength. Should he try talking to the police officer? Would he be able to help, too? Deciding that, yes, all police officers were trustworthy, Sebastian felt the familiar icy force hitting his mind.

_You are disappointing me, little one._

At once, he wanted to sink his teeth into the soft flesh of the unsuspecting man, saliva pooling in his mouth. He slapped a hand in front of his mouth to muffle his pained moan. He would _not_ hurt another person.

 _I am_ ordering _you to obey me!_

Sebastian shook his head, gripping the wall in front of him. He had to get to Captain Short. He had to get back to the hospital. Only then would he be able to save everyone. In a desperate move, he jumped up the wall, his fingers finding dents and ledges to climb up to the roof. Without breaking into a sweat, he sprinted over the rooftop, the hospital in front of him.

Sebastian had never jumped further than over his own shadow. Literally and figuratively. Regardless, he knew he could jump the distance between the house and the hospital across the street. He leapt, the wind singing in his ears and landed lightly on his feet, glancing back in awe. It was the coolest moment in his life and he would have smiled if the voice hadn't tortured him in exactly that moment.

_You will suffer for this, little one._

Sebastian clenched his teeth, forcing his feet towards the stairway door.

* * *

 **A/N** : It's safe to say that a lot of things are not going according to my plans aka characters taking over the writing process. Sebastian never was intended to have any backbone and here he is, slapping the script across my face… Good for you, sir.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you so much for joining me this week. Comments and kudos are always appreciated. Have a great day and see you next time.


	16. Chapter 15

**Author's Note:** Welcome back, my beautiful readers. Let's see some fairy workplace misogyny because different species but let's face it, same tendencies. What else? Just read for yourself. Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination.

* * *

**Chapter 15**

Vinyáya stepped through the awe-inspiring doors of the Council Hall. Awe-inspiring for anybody _not_ being on the Council, that was. The majority of the Council meetings consisted of long and boring talks about boring subjects. It came to no surprise that none of the councillors was too happy about the additional meeting outside the official schedule. Nobody wanted to stay longer than necessary, no matter how soft the seat cushions were.

Silently passing several Council members, Vinyaya settled herself in her assigned Council chair, painfully aware that this matter had to be tackled as soon as possible.

Vega sounded the electric bell, a shrill sound, that silenced any conversation.

"There is no such thing as an imminent attack by the Mud Men," Vega started the conference with a frown, looking around for confirmation. The other Council members nodded and murmured lowly among themselves.

Vinyáya cleared her throat, before speaking up. "The danger is coming from a different direction that needs to be addressed just as badly."

Curcill, an old Council member, who spent his time sleeping during the meetings jolted awake. "No Mud Men attack?"

The wing commander shook her head. "But we know of some attacks in the ho-"

"Then why are people barricading themselves in their homes? Tell them to get back to work!" Vega demanded.

"No, _listen_! There has been an attack in the Frond Hospital," Vinyáya spoke quickly. By nature. Working in a men's world, she had to learn how to put her point across _before_ she was interrupted by her colleagues or superiors.

"An elf has been attacking other patients, who have started showing the same signs as the attacker. Captain Short has witnessed the attacks and I trust her judg-"

"So, no Mud Men attack?" Curcill interrupted again.

"Short. Isn't that the girl, who got kidnapped by that Mud Boy and lost us a ton of gold?" someone else threw in.

Vinyáya felt her pulse quicken. "She is not a _girl, C_ ouncillor, she is an outstanding officer, who-"

"The news has been fake?" Vega shouted above the ever-increasing murmur.

_D'Arvit!_

Vinyáya lifted her hands, trying to make the men listen. "There _is_ an attack at hand. We thought people would be-"

" _You_ have been part of this attack on our nation, Councillor?" Curcill asked, suddenly wide awake. The wing commander ground her teeth. Certain Councillors had been looking for an excuse to get her out of the Council for at least a hundred years. And she had walked straight into it. She could have kicked herself for that blunder.

"Let me explain," she began, but the other Council members were too busy being scandalized.

"We have heard quite enough. This is obviously a dirty ruse to undermine the Council's authority. I recommend clearing this mess up and getting Captain Short in for some questioning. This girl has been causing problems since Day 1. Speaking of which, _Councillor,_ we have to discuss your further membership on the Council as you are so eager to defend the girl."

Raine felt the colour rising to her cheeks.

"Is this a joke?" she managed through gritted teeth and made a point of meeting every single gleeful grin with a hard stare. She checked her first impulse to get out of there, but that would have only proven her guilt. Instead, she buried her hands in her long sleeves, leaning back in her chair. They would have to drag her out of it if they wanted to make way for a new Councillor. She gave Vega a frosty look, while blindly typing a text message into her phone.

"Do your worst."

* * *

The drive back to Bucharest had taken longer than flying to the Israeli desert, Sofia realized as the plane landed smoothly on the runway. Despite Artemis and Butler acting as if it was the most natural thing, they were travelling to the second country in as many days. She hadn't flown that often in the last five years, let alone in a private jet!

The afternoon heat rose in shimmering waves above the sand, the light blinding the trio when they stepped out of the Fowl jet and on to the desert airfield. Butler immediately felt the beads of sweat running down his head and back as he manoeuvred Artemis and the professor to a taxi. The dark sweat stains under the professor's arms were proof enough that the weather had the same effect on her. Artemis, on the other hand, only glared around him, fresh as ever. He had no idea how the young master managed to do that.

Artemis had booked the best hotel, not expecting anything close to the luxury he was used to. What could a small hotel in the desert offer him? But, he reminded himself as he fastened his seatbelt, it would be better than sleeping in a tent.

The professor had started chatting with the driver in Hebrew as soon as they left the airfield and he listened in half-interested. Artemis' knowledge of Hebrew was rudimentary. It wasn't too hard for him to learn. His most questionable endeavours, however, tended to be in places with more modern languages such as Russia or China. He was able to read some Old Hebrew and in turn the signs in Israel. He doubted he would ever need it again, once this mission was over. Besides, Butler spoke it well enough, having spent several years during his training in Israel.

By the time they reached the hotel, the driver had told the professor the latest gossip of people she had never met and had also advised on which places to go to if she wanted some authentic hummus. Information, Artemis wasn't interested in in the slightest. Then again, he didn't think the driver could tell him where the ancient site of the angel's Jericho lay hidden. He exited the car, noticing how the professor's mouth dropped open at the sight of the hotel.

"Are you sure this is the right place?"

She stared at the luxurious building in the middle of the desert, flanked by plain stone buildings. Artemis raised an eyebrow.

"Of course it is. I guess it'll have to do for the time being. I understand you are not used to travelling, professor, you might want to rest before dinner."

Sofia ignored the jab and accepted the room keys, once Butler had sorted their details with the reception. Maybe Artemis was part of the mafia after all. How else could a puny boy like him afford all of this? How could _she_ afford all of this? She would have to pay him back, she thought, walking down the corridor to her room. How much was the fuel for a private jet? She would have to raise a mortgage on her father's winery to be able to afford it. But hey, once she was immortal, she would have all the time in the world to earn it back.

Opening the door, Sofia slipped in and let it close itself with a discreet click. After a moment of awed silence, she jumped onto the huge bed that hardly took away any space in the room. How could a room be bigger than a whole flat? Sofia bounced on the mattress, looking around and enjoying the wooden and light-coloured walls, which were in stark contrast with the greyness of the Cold War house in Romania.

She squealed in delight at the sight of the espresso machine on the desk. A moment later, she walked into the bathroom, coffee cup in hand, smelling the countless bath salts on display. Sofia couldn't remember the last time she had taken a bath and decided that this was exactly what she needed right now. Once the bathtub was filled with water and a thick layer of foam, she blissfully sank back. She reminded herself to get one in her new house, as soon as she was rich enough to buy one. She should also look into buying stocks. Someone had told her one needed to invest long-term for it to be profitable. No problem, she was able to commit long term. Say 100 years? She grinned, envisioning her future life until the skin on her fingers and toes was as wrinkly as dried prunes and the water had turned cold.

Shivering, she wrapped herself into a soft towel, her growling stomach demanding to be fed. Sofia grabbed the first clothing from her bag. It was one of her travel dresses. No surprise there. She almost only owned travel clothes. At one point, Sofia had decided ironing was a brainless and superfluous activity that she didn't care for. The few funds she owned went straight into a wardrobe of iron- and wrinkle-free dresses in all kind of olive colours. The store of her trust in New York City believed she was constantly going on safaris and she never bothered to rectify their assumption.

She pushed her phone as well as the golden apple into the deep pockets of the flowing skirt. After twisting her hair up, she went looking for the restaurant.

* * *

When the professor disappeared into her room, Butler and Artemis spend the time preparing for the search and scheming over spread out maps on the table. Butler took the time to describe what had happened to the Major in the castle, something that he had left out in Romania. Artemis had, of course, sensed that the bodyguard had left out more than just the Major's disappearance.

"And that is everything?" the boy asked. Butler tried to look innocent.

"Yes, Artemis."

"Hmm," the boy said doubtfully. "We can expect the Major to show up here, then. Has the professor said anything about the Major appearing and disappearing?"

Butler thought back to the conversation in the woods. He usually shared anything important with Artemis, but in this case, this was too personal. He shook his head.

"She wasn't surprised when it happened, but she had no explanation, either."

"Hmm," Artemis said again, placing his chin on his steepled fingers.

He had read the autopsy of the Major back when the Fowl Star sank. It had been him. Which meant that by some strange power he had been brought back to life or at least for a certain amount of time. He thought of Lucifer's golden signet ring. If Lucifer owned a ring that could heal wounds in no time, why not something that brought back the dead? It was a fantastical idea. But not impossible. The further Artemis dove into these unknown worlds the more he doubted that there was anything impossible out there. He wondered if he could examine the Major to test a few theories he had about his state of being. Once all of this was over.

Artemis stood, buttoning his jacket. "That's a mystery for after dinner."

* * *

Sofia found Artemis and Butler, already sitting at a table in one corner, half-hidden by an enormous plant and more isolated from the looks of the other diners. Surely a strategic decision by Butler, who politely stood as she approached.

A waitress hurried over, a look of pure dread on her face. She had already made the acquaintance of Artemis Fowl.

"Wou-would you like to hear our specials tonight?" she asked in a thick accent. Her hands were trembling. Sofia gave her an encouraging smile, switching to Hebrew.

"Do you serve Khachapuri by any chance?"

The waitress relaxed. "It isn't usually ordered here. But my father will make an exception. You are in luck, we have our own secret family recipe. It has been handed down for generation, ever since we came to Jerusalem."

"Jerusalem has the best food. There used to be this falafel place around the Hurva Synagogue," Sofia said, trying to remember the name. " _Troubadour_! They made the best Khachapuris I've ever eaten."

"That's my uncle's place!" the girl exclaimed, her face lighting up with pride.

Sofia opened her mouth in genuine surprise. "You are joking. I literally went every day for three months. Gained ten kilos. All that red wine obviously didn't help either. But the food was so good."

The girl giggled, while Artemis was observing his perfectly manicured fingernails. "Would it be too much to ask if you'd keep your girls talk for after dinner?"

Sofia gave Artemis a reproachful look before turning to the unfortunate girl, who had frozen like a deer in headlights.

"Diabetes. My cousin suffers from low blood sugar," she explained with an apologetic smile. The waitress' mouth formed an O, she nodded and hurried back to the kitchen. Butler gave Sofia a disapproving look, which she answered with a shrug.

"Is your need for reassurance so high that you feel the need to get it from anyone who is crossing your path, Professor?" Artemis asked with a sarcastic grin. Sofia met his gaze with a relaxed smile. Nothing could sour her mood today. Or ever again.

"No, I just like my food _not_ to be spit in."

Not five minutes later, the waitress came back with Artemis' and Butler's orders and placed a glass of wine in front of Sofia. She gave her a surprised smile. "I didn't order this."

"Loyalty reward from _Troubadour,_ " the girl winked at her. "This is a dry Merlot. The wine is from a local winery, about 10 km away from here. The grapes are always hand-picked. Enjoy."

Butler watched the girl as she returned to the kitchen. "I haven't seen her opening the bottle. I don't think, you should be drinking it," he advised, suspicious as always.

Sofia gave him a sceptical look, swirling the wine around in the glass.

"Unlike you lot, I tend _not_ to get too many assassination attempts," she joked, sticking her nose into the glass. She made an almost inaudible sound of approval before taking a sip.

"It's not poisoned," she mocked the bodyguard in a grave voice. Butler wasn't happy. There were a million poisons that would kick in much later. Once she was writhing in pain, she'd see. He'd need to check his supply of antidotes later.

Artemis attacked his dinner with expert lethalness. "When are we expecting the Major to return?"

Sofia's hand reached for the watch hanging around her neck. "In about an hour."

"How does he know about your position?" Artemis asked intrigued.

"I don't know?" she shrugged and held the chain up, the blue stone's gleam reflected by the candlelight.

"It is like GPS? He knows, where I am at any given time. Mind you, that has usually been either the library or home."

Artemis stared at it. "Fascinating," he said, sending shivers down her spine before focusing completely on his dinner, not mentioning it again.

When they had finished, the trio went back to Artemis' room, where the Major was already waiting. Butler tried not to stare at his uncle, now having more questions than ever. The Major pretended not to sense his nephew's confusion.

"Why here?"

"Allow me, Major," Artemis offered and spread a map of Israel on the table, circling all excavation sites of the last 100 years.

"Which means it has to be somewhere here," he concluded, smugly.

"That is still a big radius to be covered," the Major argued and Artemis nodded.

"Indeed."

Artemis pointed at a random spot in the desert. "There is some sort of oasis. Somewhere over there? Professor?"

Sofia nodded, remembering how it had been covered in the news. The reason why the map didn't show anything.

"It's a conservation area. Well, that's only part of the truth. It's off-limits because the soil is not stable, among other reasons. Teenagers keep disappearing every few years. The search teams keep on looking for weeks but apart from the vehicles, there is never any sign of the kids."

Artemis gave his companions a satisfied smile. "Looks like our best bet. Shall we? The night only has so many hours."

They left the hotel and drove to the oasis in a jeep which the Major had magically acquired. Sofia was convinced it hadn't been legal but didn't dare to ask and Artemis took it as a given. He didn't need to have the details.

It was past midnight when they reached the edge of the oasis, their view obscured by date palm trees that swallowed the torchlights the four shone into the oasis. Some night-active animals were scared away, but other than that? No hidden angel city.

Butler and the Major formed the vanguard, stepping cautiously between the palm trees. Both had been on missions in various jungles. An oasis should have been a walk in the park. Should have. But Butlers didn't count on things like probability. Probability were the things that got soldiers killed on a mission. Instead, they moved between the trees like they were expecting a horde of angels to attack any minute. Any rustling of leaves, flapping of wings and scattering of little feet was treated with the same alertness. Meanwhile, Artemis and Sofia followed, making more sound than a herd of elephants, spoiling any efforts of the two bodyguards to stay quiet.

Artemis stayed close to Butler's shadow, his hand deep in his pocket. Examining the local birds, sitting in a tree and watching the four newcomers, he couldn't help but think they were ravens. Which would have been preposterous. Ravens were no desert birds. Did they move at all? He stopped and watched them for a while, but they sat as still as birds of prey.

One tree with exotic fruits she had never seen before sparked Sofia's interest. Had the plants in this oasis been influenced by the angels? She moved closer and reached out for the strangely shaped fruit looking like a prickly banana.

Alerted by an odd sound, the Major turned around. He was expecting Sofia to stand behind him, but she wasn't. He checked the premise with the bright LED light. _Der'mo_. You couldn't let the woman out of your sight for one minute without her getting into the trouble. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and called out for her, but his gruff voice was left unanswered.

Butler and Artemis turned, but the woman was nowhere to be seen. Both bodyguards tensed, expecting an ambush that never came. Stepping closer to the palm tree where he had seen Sofia last, the Major suddenly disappeared as well, falling through an invisible hole, opening up underneath him. This time Artemis and Butler had seen it.

"A hidden entry. Very clever," Artemis acknowledged, walking towards it. Butler held his charge by the shoulder.

"Artemis, it could be a trap."

Meaning that the Major and Sofia could very well be very dead. The boy, however, shook his head. "It isn't, old friend. It is the entrance to Jericho. Trust me. I am never wrong."

Butler wasn't convinced. "Artemis, I haven't seen a big neon sign saying 'Entrance'. It might be quicksand."

The genius gave his bodyguard an indulgent look. "You should know that quicksand, despite the name, doesn't work this quickly, Butler. The Major's weight would have made him sink in faster, true. But the professor? Unless she is wearing a lead apron, she would have not sunk that fast. This is the entrance."

Artemis' bodyguard suppressed a sigh. Some days the boy made his job so much harder.

"Fine, no quicksand. What about the fall? You have no idea how far done it'll go."

"Ah, yes the depth," Artemis smiled, his impatience hardly contained. His hand moved around in his pocket.

"Considering the subduction of the soil over the last 3000 years we can consider a depth of about roughly 9 ft, most likely cushioned by untouched sand."

"Fine, Artemis. I'll go, but I think you should wait in the car." Butler said without much hope after it was obvious that the boy wouldn't let it go.

The boy shook his head. "Negative, Butler. The professor will need all the help she can get."

Butler considered to argue with his charge about this but decided against it.

"Fine, but please Artemis. Don't do anything…," he paused, searching for the right word. Thoughtless wasn't right. He could already hear his comeback. "Just stay behind me, please."

Artemis nodded, watching Butler as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, typing a quick message.

"Who are you texting?"

"Precautions," Butler said vaguely, pushing one last button, before letting Artemis climb up his back and stepping closer to the spot his uncle had disappeared in not a moment ago. Holding his breath, Butler took one last step forward towards the probably safe entrance to the angel city.

* * *

**A/N:** Follow Butler's good example and always let people know where you are going, folks. Jokes aside, does anybody remember those old cartoons, where they always ended with a character breaking the fourth wall and teaching a worthy lesson to the children after the main story ended? (Or am I just that old?) I feel like Butler could do that, turning to the camera and be like "So, remember kids, always put on sunscreen." :)

Anyway, thanks for reading! I am super excited for the next chapter because there will be Vinyáya kicking ass, angels, demons, the whole shebang. It'll be big!

See you all next time! Kudos and comments are always appreciated and will cause this author to break out in spontaneous expressive dance.


	17. Chapter 16

**Author's Note:** Welcome back, my beautiful readers. Let's see some fairy workplace misogyny because different species but let's face it, same tendencies. What else? Lots and lots of stuff! Just read for yourself. Enjoy!

Many thanks to everybody who left kudos. They make me get out of bed in the morning. 😊

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination.

* * *

**Chapter 16**

_Fyckd up. Getout. myslf+holly audited._

It took Root a second to understand the message on his phone before he loudly cursed. He punched the button on his intercom with a direct line to Foaly.

"Get me Holly and Trouble on the line and do not let anyone into your office, except me. The Council meeting has gone terribly wrong."

Foaly swallowed, digesting the information. Things were bad. He let his fingers dance over his keyboard, trying to get into contact with the two Captains.

"Holly, Trouble, I'm putting Commander Root through," he announced, connecting the two lines.

"Short, Kelp" the commander's voice boomed into the helmets of his two Captains, but neither of them answered. Only shouts came through.

"What is happening?" the commander grunted. The centaur accessed the helmet cameras. "Uh-Oh. Looks like our man has been busy, Commander. You should come down here straight away."

The commander ground his teeth. There was no time. He had to get Raine out of the Council before they detained her. Vega wasn't a big fan of her and he had been warning her about him.

"Foaly, try to get them on the line. Tell them to get out of there. Aboveground if necessary. I need to see the Council."

He hung up, hurrying down the corridors to the Council Meeting. The pixie secretary in front of the Council doors saw him approaching from a distance. She rose from her seat, about to tell him that he wasn't allowed to enter, but one look from him silenced her. He pushed the doors open to a bunch of Council members shouting to be heard above the noise of the other shouting Council members. Politicians.

"Silence!" he boomed over the din. A hush fell over the gathered fairies. He moved closer, seeing Raine sitting in her Council chair, her face pale. Some fairies were standing around her.

Root's chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. Mostly from the running, partly from his anger.

"What in the name of Frond is going on?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Vega hurried over to him, clapping him on the back. "Julius, good that you are here. A Council position has just opened up."

"What are you talking about?" Root pushed his hand away. "Vinyáya has told you about the emergency in the hospital?"

"Vinyáya is no longer a Council member. She and the Short girl will get their arses hauled into prison for their prank."

Vega didn't notice the vein that became visible on the commander's forehead. Otherwise, he might have shut his mouth in time. Root's complexion turned a new shade of purple before he lost his patience.

"Have you lost it, Vega?!" he shouted in his face. Vega stumbled a few steps back. Raine allowed herself a small grim smile.

Root turned to the other fairies. "A Council member has made you aware of a serious threat and you ignored her?"

"But the girl made that up," one member spoke up, a second before Root grabbed him by the collar.

"Call my Captain a girl again, Councillor, and I'll smash your face into the wall."

Vega fidgeted around. "Julius, please. You can't seriously believe that story. I have already ordered to publish a statement for the city to get back to normal."

Root took a breath to stop himself from shouting any more.

"The city will be plunged into chaos if you do that, Vega. There is a crazy elf, causing havoc and you refuse to listen to a Council member because you what? Feel threatened in your manhood? Grow up."

The Council members were silent, while Vega had become pale. He didn't say anything, the other Council Members awaiting his reaction.

"Declare a state of emergency, Vega," Root demanded, terrifying the Councillor with his complexion. Vega swallowed hard, standing his ground.

"I can't do that, Julius. You will not bully us by some make-believe story."

They were fighting a lost battle, the commander realized bitterly. The consequences for the people of Heaven City would be dire if they didn't act now. He turned to Vinyáya, who had followed the exchange with pursed lips.

" _Wing Commander,_ I need your help in the city," he managed with only the slightest shake in his voice. "Does anyone have a problem with that?"

Nobody moved when Vinyáya got up from her seat and left the Council Hall with her head held high. Once outside, they gave up the act and rushed back to the Headquarters, exchanging information as they went along.

"I need to change into my uniform," Vinyáya said. "We need to get into the field and stop this madness before they realise that I need to be detained as well. You think Foaly can override the Council's statement?"

Root snorted. "He better or I'll cut his budget in half as my parting gift when they discharge me. Meet at Ops."

The sprint couldn't have been longer than ten minutes. Root was sure that he shouldn't feel this out of breath. It was a Friday, though, so the oxygen tanks of the city must have been nearly depleted. Giving himself a minute to catch his breath, he stepped into the centaur's realm. The technician's eyes widened before he relaxed, recognising the commander.

"Can you overwrite the city's speakers?" the commander asked without greetings. The centaur nodded, any clever remark stuck in his throat, seeing the look on the commander's face.

"Of course, Commander. Give me a… and disconnected. Unfortunately, I can't take Holly's extraction order off the system. It has already gone through."

"Extraction order?" Root gritted his teeth. Vega.

"Yes, the Council has ordered Holly to return to the police station. For interrogation. Sorry, Commander."

A small bell sound from his phone made Foaly pause. He tapped on the small screen, scanning the message.

"Butler contacted me."

Root frowned. "You are in contact with Butler?"

"Yes, against protocol. But in this case, I thought it could be beneficial to stay up to d–"

"Why didn't you say that sooner?" Root boomed. "What did he say?"

The centaur readjusted his tinfoil hat indignantly while checking the message again. "He said something about an ancient site and a sword, somewhere under the sand? In Israel. Let me check the exact GPS signal."

He typed on his keyboard for a while. "Yes, it is the Israeli desert, chute E65."

"They succeeded, then? Is it over? Call them."

Bending over his keyboard again, he shook his head after a moment. "No chance. He is not picking up."

The Ops door opened with a woosh and Vinyáya strode in. She had changed into her old wing commander uniform, her long silver hair tied in a ponytail. Root swallowed hard. He couldn't decide where _not_ to look. Foaly couldn't suppress an amused whiny.

"What do you have, Foaly?" she asked with steel in her voice. The centaur straightened and told her about the aboveground mission.

"That is great, so how will we know if it is successful?"

Foaly shrugged his shoulders. "In all fairness, I don't know why Butler wouldn't pick up when he–" he stopped when his device blinked.

"I lost their signal," he announced.

Vinyáya's mouth was set in a hard line. "What does that mean?"

"It could mean all sorts of things. It could be a dead spot, the phone could be broken, Butler could have turned it off."

"What's the most plausible cause, Foaly?" Vinyáya asked impatiently.

"Probably something bad."

Root and Vinyáya glanced at each other with dark a foreboding.

"Send Short and Kelp a message. Get them up chute E65, Foaly. ASAP," the commander said in a grave tone.

Foaly's fingers hovered over his keyboard. "Where will _you_ go?"

"Doing my job," Root grumbled.

The centaur chuckled. "An old-timer lik–"

Vinyáya slammed her hand on his desk, making him jump in surprise. She smiled at him, a dangerous glimmer in her eyes. "Anything else, Foaly?"

The centaur fiddled with his tinfoil hat. "No, Wing Commander. I am on it, Wing Commander."

"Good," she said and left Ops, the air of authority leaving with her. Both Foaly and Root stared after her before Foaly regained his spunk. "Why isn't _she_ commander, Julius?"

"Shut up, Foaly!" Root shot back, following her to the street.

* * *

It happened so fast Sofia didn't even have time to scream. Instead, she fell several feet into a dune, face first. She gasped as the air was squeezed out of her lungs only to get a mouthful of sand. Choking and spitting out, she patted the ground for the torch that she had dropped. When she finally found it, she looked around at deserted dwellings around her. It was an old abandoned settlement.

"Jericho," she breathed, suffering from another coughing fit.

So that's why nobody found the kids, she thought. Despite the sophisticated equipment the police had these days. She wondered if there was any equipment that would be able to pick up cavities of such size.

Sofia scratched her head, a sand cloud fluttering down. Patting her clothes and hair, she tried to free herself from the sand that had managed to get under her clothes and into her hair. But the grains clung to her like dust. She gave up and slid down the dune, the cone of her torch illuminating the path in front of her.

Her plan was simple. First, she would look for the sword. Then for an exit. There had to be one. The kids didn't get out, true, but she wasn't 15 anymore and she wasn't drunk. Of course, the only exit might be flying out, but she didn't allow herself to think that, yet.

The torchlight bounced off a huge white angel statue, its eyes staring her down. Sofia swallowed, distracting herself with trivialities. This place must have been the discovery of the century! It was groundbreaking, at least from an archeologic perspective. If she managed to guide a team of archaeologists here, she'd became famous overnight. Immortalized in history books even after her death. Thankfully, she didn't need that kind of immortality, she thought with a smile.

Stepping into an alley, lined with huge white stone pillars, Sofia touched one them. Its smooth surface felt warm under her touch. Technically, it could have been the ruins of any human settlement. A very rich human settlement with big mansions and wide streets. Nothing else indicated the existence of angels here. Sofia listened carefully for anything out of the ordinary. There was still the mystery of the missing children. Either the teenagers had died from hunger and dehydration… or someone had killed them. She didn't know what was worse.

Directing her torchlight from right to left, a shiver ran down her spine as someone had passed her. She looked over her shoulder, still alone, but the odd feeling wouldn't dissipate. Lifting the light cone upwards, she stifled a shriek at the sight of some grotesque gargoyle statues on top of the columns.

When the ugly grimaces didn't jump down and attack her, Sofia took a calming breath. They are not real, _datti una calmata._ Regardless, she quickened her step, every so often throwing a glance at the terrifying statues. The alley opened up to a big open square with a gigantic marble structure in the middle of it, towering over any other building in the settlement.

A sudden flash of light blinded her as the torchlight flitted over something metallic through the open entrance. Drawn closer by the alluring shine, she crossed the square, sneaking glances in all directions. The sensation of unseen eyes following her every step made her breath hitch in her throat. A whisper tickled her ear, making her heart leap into her throat. She let out a muffled yelp and darted inside the temple. Bracing herself, she peered around the massive marble wall, only to be met with the same deserted square. She was alone.

"Scared of my own shadow," she murmured, a hysterical laugh rising in her chest.

Then she heard the whisper again. This time it had come from the stones next to her. Were the marble stones pulsating? Sofia swallowed, tentatively reaching out a hand and touching them with a finger. The smooth stones were radiating heat, vibrating with subdued power. Goosebumps climbed up her arms. She turned to the middle of the hall to the object on the stone slab. A long silver sword, beckoning her to touch it.

" _La spada di Michele,"_ she breathed, her hand reaching out for it. She was so immersed in its shine, she didn't notice the Major stepping into the temple.

"Don't touch it," he ordered behind her, making her flinch.

He had seen her torchlight as soon as he landed in the sand, sprinting towards the impulsive woman. And as he had suspected, she was about to touch some unknown object.

"It's the sword," Sofia said excitedly, reaching for the hilt. The Major slapped her arm away.

"I _said_ don't touch it. How hard is it to follow one single order?"

"It is a sword. What harm could one touch do?" Sofia said with a sour look.

He made a low growl until Sofia held her hand up in surrender. She pointed the torch on the shiny metal, examining the ornaments and letters when Butler and Artemis joined them. Artemis' eyes widened.

"Is that the sword?" he reached out his hand just as Butler touched him by the shoulder. The boy stopped himself, readjusting his tie. His attention was momentarily drawn to how the atmosphere shifted inside the temple. The air was strangely charged like an open wire dangling from the ceiling. His bodyguards felt it too, hunching their shoulders against the unseen force. So did the professor, scratching her neck, every so often. Interesting, he thought, playing with the ring in his pocket.

The sword was magnificent. Its polish highlighting the quality workmanship and accentuating the inscription on its blade.

"It needs to be fed," she eventually said.

"Fed?" the Major peered at the inscriptions as if he would be able to read the text.

Sofia checked the script again. "Yes, it says... _Great powers wants for great sacrifice. Feed me what you treasure most and I shall be yours."_

Artemis stepped forward and studied the foreign letters. "It's a metaphor, Professor. It means to kill. Kill what is most precious to you and the powers of the sword will be in your hands. It's a common trope in all sorts of stories if you think about it."

Sofia crinkled her nose. "That's awful. Who would do that?"

Artemis gave her a telling side glance but kept the answer to himself. They stood around the sword, unsure what to do next.

"Zmeu said that the sword belonged to Archangel Michael," Sofia remembered. "Makes you wonder what he had to give up for the powers."

A flutter of wings caught the Major's and Butler's attention. Within the blink of an eye, they spun around, pointing their pistols at the golden-winged angel standing in the temple's entrance. He ignored them.

"Nothing," he answered Sofia's question.

Curiosity outweighing her fear, Sofia rubbed her forehead. "What do you mean? How did he get the sword working?"

Ananiel smiled in response. "My brother never used the full sword's power. He felt he was above its allure. Needless to say, he was beyond saving."

Artemis turned around and reached for the sword's handle, lifting it from its mounting. It was heavier than he had expected and its tip slammed to the ground. Sofia yelped.

"You cannot have it," he informed the angel, barely holding the sword by its hilt. Butler felt his pulse quicken. The biggest risk for Artemis right now was Artemis himself, cutting off his hand with the sword. He was about to tell him not to move until he had taken hold of it when he heard a sound coming from his uncle. Whirling towards him, he witnessed the Major's body fading from view, his lips moving in a silent order.

Sofia threw Butler a worried look. Their odds of getting out of this in one piece had reduced significantly. Another person stepped into the temple, his white wings almost glowing in the darkness. Lucifer, Sofia thought, letting out an inaudible sigh of relief. Naturally, he would choose the last possible moment for his grand entrance.

The angel stopped next to Ananiel, his white wings folded behind his back, a dark look on his face. Any minute now he would punch him in the face or throw a fireball at him, Sofia thought, ignoring the knot in her stomach. Any minute now. But he didn't. He merely nodded in her direction.

"You have found the sword. Well done," he sounded bored and held out his hand. "Bring it to me."

Artemis strode towards him, the sword dragging behind him. All the alarm bells in Butler's head went off at once. No, that wasn't quite right. They had been ringing as soon as the Nephilim appeared but now they had grown to a crescendo. They had to get out of there, _now._ He reached his hand out to stop Artemis from taking another step. That is, he tried to, but he couldn't use a single muscle in his body. He was frozen in place, forced to watch Artemis walk towards Lucifer. Sofia, however, wasn't petrified. She grabbed Artemis by the arm and held him back.

"What the heck, Artemis?"

He pushed her back, displaying much more strength than she had expected. Lifting the sword like it had lost most of its weight, he crossed the distance to Lucifer. The angel took the sword from the boy and admired it in the low light, his eyes mirrored in its polished blade. It was amazing. Way too good for his brother, Michael.

Ananiel moved closer, his gaze glued to the sword. "Home is so close, Lucifer. Now we only have to activate the sword," he murmured into his ear.

Lucifer leaned his head to the side. "Activate?"

Watching the exchange with clenched fists, Sofia gnashed her teeth.

"How can you even talk to him? They kidnapped your boyfriend!"

"My boyfriend," repeated Lucifer with a blank stare.

From the corner of his eye, Butler saw the shadows shift. Another figure had entered the temple. He would have groaned if he could. What was this place? The General Assembly for angels? He fought against the charm that held him in place. He didn't need to be a prophet to know that things were about to get even worse.

Sofia whipped her head towards the third angel, who dragged a tied man behind him and dropped him in front of Lucifer like a sack of potatoes. The angel with wing feathers like a crow melted into the shadows at Ananiel's sign, leaving Lucifer to gawk at the demon to his feet.

His once shiny dark hair was matted, the obsidian skin dull. The rumpled and dirty clothes hanging down on his frame. Sofia had never seen him before. Lucifer's reaction, however, made clear that this was the man she had been trying to locate for nearly three years.

"He is yours, brother. I promised you, I'd give him back to you. It's your choice now, we'll have your back. Like _family_ does," Ananiel told him gently, touching his shoulder.

Sofia couldn't believe her ears. He wouldn't fall for this plump lie, would he?

Yonatan, in the meantime, had managed to get on his knees and was slowly standing. His eyes filled with tears and he swallowed down a sob. He whispered his name. A raspy caress. Lucifer blinked, his gaze darting between his brother and Yonatan. He opened his mouth, no sound coming out.

"It's your choice," Ananiel repeated.

Lucifer cleared his throat, his eyes locked on Yonatan.

"What choice?"

"Read the inscription."

Lucifer held the sword close, his lips moving as he made sense of the words.

_Feed me what you treasure most._

He turned to his brother, a sudden innocence on his face as he couldn't make sense of the sword's engraving. You could almost feel sorry for him, Ananiel mused dispassionately.

"The sword's true powers are sealed. Only the sacrifice of a treasure will set them free."

"But what is my treasure?" Lucifer frowned, turning back to Yonatan, who had caught on much faster than the slow younger brother.

"It's me." The demon blinked back some stubborn tears.

Lucifer gritted his teeth, his hands trembling. Countless pairs of eyes were focussed on him, judging. Stop looking at me, he wanted to shout. The usual welcome attention felt stale. They all wanted him to fail. Jeer at his weakness. But he wouldn't be weak. He was Lucifer. God's favourite.

He scoffed, overplaying his wildly beating heart. "You mean nothing to me, demon."

Ananiel's grip on his brother's shoulder intensified. "It's an overwhelming decision, brother. I might have put too much responsibility on you."

"No," Lucifer snapped, shaking off his brother's hand. It was no big decision. He was capable of coming to a decision. He was a born ruler. He was Lucifer. _God's_ favourite.

"You don't have to do this, Lou," Yonatan whispered. "Let's go home."

Lucifer gripped the hilt of the sword tighter. "Home."

 _Home_. Heaven. The angelic choirs singing for him. His father, awaiting him with open arms. He would be sorry, of course. Because he had sacrificed so much. He, Lucifer. God's favourite.

"I love you, Lucifer," Yonatan whispered, too low for anyone else to hear.

Lucifer's eyes burned for some reason. "I love you too. But I need to go home."

His hand jerked forward, thrusting the sword deep into his side.

The humming sound, a constant ever since they had set foot in the temple stopped at that moment. A blanket of silence wrapped itself around the place. Lucifer pulled the sword from the demon's body with a sickly smacking sound, amplified by the silence. Yonatan met his gaze with a shaky, disbelieving smile before he slumped to the ground, deadly still.

It was his stillness that made Lucifer's breath quicken into a panicked gallop. He stared down at his demon for a long minute. Then his gaze wandered to the scholar.

Sofia flinched at his now pitch-black eyes. She involuntarily stepped back, when he spread his wings and jumped at her. Within a heartbeat, he had crossed the distance and stabbed her in the chest. Stumbling back, Sofia fell to the ground, her golden apple rolling out of her jacket with a clank.

Her hand shot to her chest, where the sword would have penetrated her skin. But it hadn't. Lucifer frowned. That wasn't supposed to happen.

Sofia scrambled back, trying to make sense of what had happened. Unaware of the apple catching Lucifer's attention.

"You said, you wanted my _help,_ " she spat out, her whole body trembling.

"I lied. What did you think? Hasn't anyone told you not to trust the Devil?" Lucifer asked in a bored voice. He stretched out his hand and the apple flew into his hand.

"Ah, a golden apple. They are supposed to grant immense power, even immortality. But I am sure you know this, professor. Seeing as you did all your homework, while you were busy searching for my demon."

Sofia fought the tears of anger threatening to fill her eyes.

"No, really. You did well. Got the information, got the apple, simply couldn't figure out how to make it work. I am in a good mood, though. I'll tell you," he said, throwing the apple back into her hand.

"One mortal life for immortal life."

He motioned to Butler and Artemis when she kept glaring at him, unable to grasp the meaning of his words.

"Shoot one of them, spill their blood on the apple and you will live forever."

"W-what do you mean by _one_?" she asked, looking down at the apple in her hand, realization dawning on her golden reflection.

"My my, aren't we greedy today," Ananiel chuckled beside Lucifer.

Lucifer gave her a hard look.

"Sometimes you can only save yourself. Isn't it such a small prize for immortality? That's what you've been wanting to achieve, haven't you?"

Lucifer smirked, seeing her stupefied expression.

"Only death is free, _cara mia_."

Wallowing in her shock, he shrugged.

"You had a good run, love. You did. So, I will be giving you the satisfaction of knowing you helped me rise back to Heaven, taking my rightful place. And I am not a tyrant, I will take the boy with me."

He put an arm around Artemis' shoulder.

"I would have never figured out, what you had been up to if it wasn't for my little pale friend here. He was such a big help throughout this mission."

Butler gawked in disbelief as Artemis smiled, turning to his bodyguard. "At one point you should realize which the winning side is, my _friend_. I suggest you follow the sensible choice."

Sofia stared at Artemis' hand, a flash of light drawing her attention to his thumb, decorated with a golden ring. A golden ring with a black stone.

"Artemis, where did you get that ring?" she asked in a husky voice.

Artemis opened his arms and gave her a sardonic look. "Really, Professor. Those will be your famous last words?"

"See, Artemis. You can't force people to their luck. Sometimes, you can just make their suffering end quickly," Lucifer told him, pulling him towards the temple's entrance.

Butler, Sofia and the motionless Yonatan were left in the deafening silence of the stone walls. Eventually, Sofia turned to Butler, about to scream at him for standing around like a pillar of salt. Her words were drowned by the grating sound above their heads, though. Seconds later the first stone came tumbling down.

Butler regained some feeling in his hand. He had no idea what the angel had done to him. Part of him had feared to be stuck as a statue for the rest of his life. He focused his thoughts on his feet, hoping to get them moving with his sheer will power before the boulders smashed his skull to a pulp.

Cursing, Sofia ran over to the bodyguard to push him to the side. Or at least, she tried. Instead, she was thrown back as if she had run straight into a wall. A massive marble block smashed into the spot right next to them.

Blinking away the tears of pain, Sofia got up and stemmed her body against the mountain of a man to get him out of harm's way. He wanted to tell her to get to safety. There was no point in both of them dying. Someone had to save Artemis.

She remembered one of the first Muay Thai classes, where they had to push each other across the room. What had the teacher said? Something about bending your knees and pushing upwards? Pushing herself against him, she thrust her heels into the ground, clenching her teeth in the effort. Little by little, Butler's rigid form inched away, abruptly tilting to the side. Sofia toppled over and let out a yelp as another boulder slammed into the place, they had stood a second before.

Laying on the soft sand, Sofia felt the ground give way. She pushed herself on to her knees, looking over to the entrance. And while she kept wondering if she'd be able to pull Butler out in time, the ground beneath them collapsed, swallowing them up.

* * *

**A/N** : Sugar, we are going down, down, down into the cellar... Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and are excited about the next instalment. It'll be good. _I_ think it'll be good. Tune in.

Comments and kudos are always appreciated. Have a lovely day and until next time!


	18. Chapter 17

**Author's Note** : Hello my beautiful readers and sorry for the long wait! I haven't been lazy, I just went back and edited the hell out of my older chapters, haha. But I am back and present you Chapter 17 with… some answers and some action. Hope you enjoy!

Many thanks to everybody who left a kudos. You guys are amazing!

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination.

* * *

**Chapter 17**

It hadn't taken long until Karen Burdock's news had spread. More and more fairies had rushed to go home to barricade themselves. The captains, Short, Kelp and Vein, patrolled the city with only a handful of officers.

"Holly, take your team to the West End, Liam check the Old Town. I'll be in the Trading District. Keep in touch, in case anything weird happens," Trouble ordered.

"Incapacitate anyone who seems aggressive. We'll meet back here in an hour. Good luck," he said, leaving in the direction of the Trading District with his team.

There were still too many people on the streets, but all remained quiet and they made their round without the slightest interruption. Still, Holly gripped her blaster, ready to shoot. After an uneventful hour, she and her team marched back to the meeting point. They were the first to arrive.

"Guys, you on your way?"

Trouble answered. "Almost there. Liam?"

Nothing. Then an "Argh!"

Trouble cursed, checking Liam's position. According to the map on his helmet visor, Vein and his team were close to the Frond Hospital. Changing directions, he shot towards the hospital.

"Meet you there," Trouble called into the mic.

When they arrived, the chaos had already unfolded. Police officers shouted, barking orders at panicked fairies, running around and screaming hysterically.

"Liam!" Holly called out, scanning the people crowding the place around the hospital.

"What's going on?" Trouble asked.

One officer, somewhere in the crowd, turned on his mic. "Sir, three gremlins threw themselves out of the hospital window. Two immediately dead, heads exploded like melons. The other bit Corporal Partout in the arm. Went completely mad and bit a bystander. The corporal that is. We shot Partout but the gremlin got away. Vein went after him, but we lost him."

"What about the hospital?" Trouble asked, alarmed.

"Entrances all blocked. Windows were ordered to be closed and barred, if possible. The gremlins smashed theirs on the top level. We can't say if others might follow. What shall we do?"

Holly felt sweat running down her forehead. She should have never left the hospital in the first place. Think fast! They had to find the bitten gremlin.

"Keep your attention on anyone trying to leave, everybody. Stun them, if necessary. Holly, let's find Liam."

They sprinted towards the green blinking dot on the map. Another light indicated an incoming call. It was the Council.

"Attention, attention, Captain Holly Short is ordered to immediately report to the Council. She has planned a malicious threat against our kin. Anybody obstructing the police's work from prosecuting her is a suspect. I repeat –"

"D'Arvit," Holly cursed. The Council was out to get her, weren't they? She turned to Trouble, who had clenched his fists, thinking hard.

"We need to stop the bitten elves," Holly decided, resuming her course towards Captain Vein. Trouble hurried after her. "You gonna get into trouble, Holly. If they get you, they won't let you back out."

Holly nodded but didn't stop, zooming past the surrounding buildings until they found Vein, slumped against a wall. He had a hand pressed on his neck, blood oozing through his fingers. The wound wasn't healing.

"Stop, don't come any closer," he said, holding up his other hand and pointed into the direction of the chutes.

"Shoot me," Vein ordered, only to be met with protests of Holly and Trouble. "Shoot me before I start attacking you too. Go on."

Trouble shook his head, his mind racing. They couldn't afford to lose a trusted officer, but Vein was out either way. Reluctantly, Trouble pulled out his blaster and gnashed his teeth, hoping for a last-second clever idea that never came.

"I'm sorry, mate," Trouble bit out and stunned his colleague. The elf fell to the side, blood now oozing from his neck freely. Trouble dispatched an emergency call for the Healers to pick him up. He threw Holly a grim look when the commander's voice filled their helmets.

"Holly. The Council is after you. Get out of there. If Trouble is close get to the chutes, lock them and get aboveground before any fairies do. Help the Mud Men if you can and stay out of this until I have dealt with the Council. Go!" Root barked.

Following the order without question, both captains dashed towards the chutes.

* * *

Root and Vinyáya arrived at the hospital site and so did the press.

"Police, coming through!" Root shouted. Instead of giving them space, a crowd of journalists surrounded Root and Vinyáya.

"Commander, what can you tell us about the current situation in the hospital?"

"Is it true that there is a terrorist inside, holding patients and staff hostage?"

Root pushed through. "No comment," he growled.

Karen Burdock shoved her way through to the commander, pushing her microphone into his face.

"Commander, is this the beginning of the end? Is there a Mud Man in the hospital?"

Vinyáya groaned pushing past the journalist. Root took advantage of the sprite's momentary inattentiveness and pushed past. The sprite made a disapproving noise before turning to the camera with her famous smile.

"I don't know about you, but I sense some tension between the Wing Commander and the Commander. Could the rumours be true then?"

"Stupid journalist," Vinyáya mumbled under her breath as they stepped out of the crowd. But the journalists weren't satisfied. They kept begging for statements. The louder they shouted, the stronger the commander's headache became. And the stronger his headache became, the redder his face turned.

"Officers," Root barked into the helmet mic. "I want everyone to keep a minimum distance to everybody. Do not engage in any discussions with anyone. Stun whoever doesn't comply with these rules. Is that clear?"

He got affirmative replies, but that didn't make the commander any happier. He turned around to the crowd of onlookers, wishing that they'd disappeared. They didn't, so he snarled some generic comments about the situation being under control and that they would give them a proper press conference later that night. He turned to Vinyáya, but she was gone.

"Wing Commander?" he asked into his mic, but he received no answer. He heard the insolent sprite journalist talk into the camera. "Oh, the _suspense_. The Commander has missed the Wing Commander's heroic dash towards the hospital to save countless lives. How will this episode of our most recent history unfold, my lovely audience?"

While Root had undiplomatically shouted at the gathered journalists, another window had shattered. This time on the third floor, a pixie and an elf jumped out. Some officers went running to take them out as soon as they hit the ground.

Vinyáya looked up. She frowned as she saw a pale face appear in the window. Looks as if their man was still in the hospital after all. That made her pause. If his strategy had been to bite as many fairies as possible to get them to the surface, the hospital would be the worst place to do so, since it had been cordoned off. Was he trying to fight whatever power was possessing him? Her fingers grazed Root's arm when her eyes fell on the shiny blue uniforms of the Council's Gardai. She furrowed her brow. They were more desperate to get her behind bars than she had thought. She stepped away from the crowd and ran around the back of the hospital to the fire escape ladder. Jumping up, she grabbed the ladder and started climbing.

* * *

Centuries of untouched sand proved to be their lifesaver again as Sofia and Butler landed on the bottom of the pit, while debris struck left and right. Grabbing Butler by the collar, Sofia pulled the unresponsive mountain of a man into an adjacent tunnel, grunting from the effort. She had hardly finished the task when debris closed the opening and plunged them into darkness.

Sofia's legs shook as she got on her knees, fumbling around his waist. She had lost her torch at some point, but she remembered him having one in his belt. Her fingers closed around it and she pulled it free, breathing a sigh of relief once the light illuminated the tunnel. At least they would see where they would die.

The torchlight wandered over the impenetrable wall of rubble in front of them. Turning towards the underground tunnel, Sofia reluctantly walked a few feet along the path. But when a few pebbles dropped from the ceiling, Sofia flinched and hurried back to Butler, who had sat up and leaned against the wall.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, crouching down beside him.

Butler held out his hand. Sofia blinked, confused.

"The apple, Professor."

Sofia paled. "Excuse me!?"

"You have to spill blood to gain immortality. I don't want to be at the receiving end of this bargain."

"You don't seriously think I was planning to kill you to gain immortality, do you?"

He didn't. He believed the professor to be many things, but she wasn't a killer. Yet.

"Then it shouldn't be a problem to hand it over."

"Do you have any idea how long I have been searching for this? I am not going to hand it over."

Butler gave her a hard look. "Don't make me get it myself."

Sofia considered her options. She knew Butler could wrench the apple out of her hand if he chose to, even in his debilitated state. So close. She had been so close to solving the secret of eternal life only for another obstacle to present itself. She was a vegetarian, for heaven's sake. She couldn't even kill a spider in her shower, how was she supposed to kill a person?

"I am sure there is another way. Lucifer has been lying the whole time. He was probably lying about this too," she spluttered.

Butler didn't budge.

"You _will_ give me that apple, Professor. For a basic level of trust."

"How do I know that you are not going to kill me and use it yourself?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you still alive?"

Sofia squared her shoulders with a glare and reached into her battered bomber jacket, the metal of the apple cool against her fingers. Three years of research. All for nothing if he decided to shoot her, there and then. To become immortal himself. Was he capable of such a ruthless move? He was dutiful, yes. Power-hungry? Probably not. Unless it was another of Lucifer's cruel jokes. She was only prolonging the inevitable. Holding her breath, she pulled her hand out of the pocket, the apple in her sweaty palm. She locked eyes with Butler and placed the apple in his outstretched hand.

Butler returned her gaze coolly. He could see her pulse beating against the skin of her neck as she let go of the apple. He acknowledged it, calming his own racing heart. This had been one crazy trust exercise. More for her to be fair. He could always break her neck.

Standing, knees still trembling, he turned towards the yawning black hole. Their only way out. Sofia shone the torchlight into the darkness and followed Butler's confident steps into the tunnel.

After a while, Butler had to ask. "Why?"

Sofia stared at the shine of the torchlight, not turning her head. "Why what?"

"Why immortality? Did you have a traumatic experience as a child?" he asked, annoyed at how hopeful he sounded.

"No, I had a perfectly fine childhood. My parents loved me and none of my brothers died a horrible death. I just don't want to die. Is that so hard to believe? You can't tell me that you are looking forward to it."

"Don't you think that there are other things, making this life meaningful?"

Sofia stopped herself from hitting him with the torch. She couldn't believe he made her look like some crazy cuckoo, chasing after an unrealistic dream.

"Do you think your uncle has been trying to keep me alive because he is such a charitable person?" she asked instead.

"My uncle deserved wherever he ended."

"But my _nonna_ didn't!" she snapped and shone the torchlight in his face.

Butler held up his hand to shield his eyes. Traumatic experience it was, he decided and continued walking along the never-ending tunnel. The uniformly brown sand walls never changed and even after another hour, they hadn't reached the exit.

"We should be back in town by now," Sofia said, worry in her voice. Butler nodded. He wondered if they should turn back, but he wouldn't be able to clear away the debris from the tunnel entrance. There was only one possible way out.

What if there wasn't, Sofia thought with a jolt of panic. They would die down here. One of them anyway. The other could always turn themself immortal and be stuck here forever with the decomposing corpse of the other as company. Maybe she should end it, while she still could. Perhaps Butler would, once he came to the same conclusion. She jumped when she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"Do you hear that?" he asked, ignoring her reaction.

She tried to listen over her violently beating heart until her ears picked up the scratching. What was that? She turned around to shine the torch down the way they had come from, but Butler pushed her hand down.

"Don't. Let's keep going."

Butler had heard the scraping five minutes ago. First, they were isolated cases, maybe the tunnel shifting. Then they had increased. And he knew that they were being followed. Animals, judging by the sounds. With claws. Big too. And they were in the worst possible place to defend themselves or even think of fighting them. He doubted that the professor was of much help, she seemed close to a nervous breakdown. This whole mission had turned on its head. It was a disaster. Artemis kidnapped. The professor and he somewhere miles under the sand, chased by unknown attackers. His uncle gone and the sword in the hands of Lucifer, the Devil himself. It couldn't get much worse.

He quickened his steps, pulling Sofia by the arm. She was out of breath, trying to keep up with him. Her legs were burning, but Butler kept his pace up and she did not want to wait for whoever was behind them to catch up.

Butler stopped in time before slamming into the solid wall in front of them. They were stuck. The torchlight danced nervously around the walls. The man touched the rugged stones, checking for any irregularities. The scratching noise was getting closer. So, that was it. Death in a dark tunnel, deep underground. Butler clenched his jaw. He had failed. His employer, his family and himself. He slammed his fist into the hard stone wall in frustration, nearly breaking his hand.

Some debris fell on Butler's head and he heard a soft whisper. He lifted his gaze, a faint cold sensation now on his face. His eyes widened and he grabbed the torch from Sofia, illuminating a small hole above his head.

"Cover me," he ordered over his shoulder, unaware of Sofia's confusion.

 _Cover me_? What was that supposed to mean? She could hardly see her own hand in front of her face, how was she going to fight off anything that decided to attack them? She stared into the tunnel, reaching for her pistol. There had never been a lesson on how to shoot at a target without knowing where exactly it was. Did you shoot into the darkness? Or wait until you could see it? Sofia swallowed hard and pointed the Glock into the darkness.

Meanwhile, Butler was punching the small opening above his head, ripping pieces away until bit by bit the stone gave way. His knuckles were bloody, but he ignored the pain or the drips of blood falling on his face, punching even harder. When the hole was big enough for his frame, he pulled himself up.

Sofia turned her head to the side, seeing the bodyguard disappearing into the hole above her together with the little light there had been. He was abandoning her. She was on her own. Her hands trembled and a panicked sob threatened to escape her. The noise of the creatures in the tunnel slowed down. _Merda._ She could sense them, a few feet away from her. Lurking. And suddenly she heard the Major's voice in her head.

" _If there is an attacker, you'll need to take him out."_

She wanted to argue that there was no way she could take out anyone, but even the made-up Major in her mind didn't accept her excuses. Sofia took a shaky breath and turned towards the presence, she thought was on her right-hand side. The Major's voice boomed in her head.

" _You have gun cant._ _Concentrate on your breathing._ _Exhale and pull the trigger about mid exhale."_

She did and time slowed down, her breathing like the roaring of a waterfall in her ears. She pulled the trigger down, the bullet projecting out of the pistol with a loud bang, making time return to its usual flow. The creature howled in pain, thrashing on the floor. Another creature in the distance dashed forward.

"Sofia!" Butler's booming voice made her whirl around to see the giant man sticking his head through the opening, motioning her over. Sofia stumbled to the opening, grabbing his outstretched hand and letting him pull her up. She looked down in time to see what kind of creature had been about to tear her apart. It appeared underneath the hole, illuminated by the torch. She let out a piercing shriek as the giant wolfhound bellowed underneath her, its teeth bared.

"Stop kicking," Butler rumbled, when he managed to hoister her up the small platform he had climbed up earlier. She pulled her legs up, making herself as small as possible as she stared down, frozen by the sight of the thrashing animal. Her breath came out in puffs and she grabbed his shirt as if her life depended on it. Which it did.

He shook her shoulders. "Professor, look at me," he ordered. He gripped her chin, forcing her face away from the sight down below when she didn't react. She looked dazed but followed his hand once he shone the torch up the stone walls.

"We should be able to get out if we climb up."

The breeze he had felt in the tunnel was much stronger here, he could even make out a faint light above. Sofia blinked. Butler repeated what he had said until she registered its meaning.

"Climbing. Yes." She scrambled up behind Butler, who ascended the uneven stones like a mountain climber, once he made sure that she was following him, the growling growing fainter until it stopped altogether.

The bodyguard reached the surface, taking a deep breath. The cold air cooled the sweat on his forehead in an instant. For a moment he hadn't believed they would make it. It was nice to be alive. He turned to take Sofia's hand and pulled her out of the hole as she struggled on the last meters.

She straightened, looking up at Butler with a blank expression. They were still alive. She abruptly turned her back on the giant man, staggering away before sinking to her knees. They were still alive and he had come back for her. Her hands were shaking as she bent over, her breath erratic. She clasped her hands in front of her mouth, but it only muffled the escaping sounds. Sofia had always rolled her eyes at those over-the-top actors in the movies. The ones where they cried with their mouths open wide and the tears streaming down their faces. Who cried like that? She did.

Butler darted a glance at her, not at all surprised. By now the adrenaline rush was starting to fade. He remembered the first time he had finished a mission at the Academy. It hadn't been pretty. He moved a few feet away to give her some privacy, and to not have to hear her retches, in case she decided to be sick. Burying one hand deep in his pocket, he stared at a random spot in the desert until her sobs had quietened down. Eventually, Sofia cleared her throat behind him but averted her gaze when he turned. She shook her head at the embroidered handkerchief he offered her.

"How is your hand?" she asked with a husky voice in a clumsy attempt to change the subject. Butler regarded the broken skin on his hand with a shrug.

"I had worse."

She let out a joyless laugh and followed him back to the village.

* * *

**A/N** : Butler in action. Enough said. Thanks for reading, I hope you had fun. Comments and/or kudos are always appreciated. Have a lovely day and until next time!


	19. Chapter 18

**Author's Note** : Merry Christmas (if you celebrate/d!) to you, my beautiful readers. I hope you had some restful days and are sitting in your armchairs, trouser buttons opened and a little bit tipsy. ;-)

Either way, I am posting the last chapter for 2020 and hope, you'll enjoy this little fluff-and-action-chapter between the years. Special thanks to everybody who has commented or kudos-ed or bookmarked this story in 2020. Thank you all for following this story and enjoying it and just being so wonderfully supportive!

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination.

* * *

**Chapter 18**

Gravel crunched under Lucifer's feet when he landed in the graveyard with Artemis. Dropping the boy on a memorial slab, he began pacing back and forth. He tried to chase away Yonatan's eyes from his memory, but his personal demon wouldn't leave him in peace. Lucifer rubbed his burning eyes, gritting his teeth when they wouldn't get better. The demon knew he only wanted to go home, he understood their time had been limited. He had needed a sacrifice.

Lucifer read the inscription on the sword's blade, still bloody.

_Feed me what you treasure most and I shall be yours._

His heart hammered against his rips. No, he had no time to think about such pathetic things. He needed to focus on something else right now. The woman. Sofia. Why hadn't the sword harmed her? He leaned back, his eyes wandering across the foreign letters.

"Is it broken?" he murmured to himself.

Artemis' ears perked up. "What is, my Lord?"

The angel rolled his eyes. As if the mortal would get it. "The sword. Why didn't it kill that wretched mortal woman?"

"Something might block its powers," Artemis suggested. Lucifer laughed and tousled the boy's hair.

"You are funny, little one. I'll be enjoying you for a bit longer."

No, there was nothing wrong with the sword. And she hadn't been using the golden apple either. So, there must have been something else, keeping her from harm.

_Something might block its powers._

Lucifer groaned. The Urim stone. The one thing that kept him safe from any harm. That he had given to the Major and Sofia. No wonder his ring hadn't penetrated her mind. Well, she wouldn't be a problem anymore, the stones had crushed her and that giant man to death. Which left the Major. The man had become a nuisance. And he couldn't ask for the stone back. A gift once given couldn't be taken back. The easiest thing would be to have the Major stabbed, but the man had survived in Hell for an eternity. Lucifer didn't think he could find someone mortal and able to kill that man. But he wanted that stone back. In case, his return to Heaven wasn't going to be the happy reunion that he imagined.

He strutted from one tombstone to a black mausoleum. He took a breath, the smell of damp soil filling his nose. "Say, boy. Do you know what an Urim stone is?"

Of course, he didn't. Why did he even talk to him?

"My father gave it to me. It is for protection. How could I get rid of someone who is wearing this stone, without having to do it myself?"

Artemis answered without a second thought. "I would set a trap and wait for them to walk into it themselves."

Scratching his beard, Lucifer nodded, a plan taking shape in his head. But before he could act on it, Ananiel stepped out of the shadows, followed by other angels.

"It is time, brother."

Lucifer shook his head. "There is something, I need to do first."

Annoyance flitted over Ananiel's face before he regained his composure.

"Very well. When will you be back?"

His brother didn't answer. This whole cursed place could go to Hell, for all he cared. He waved Nuriel to come closer.

"Brother, can you summon Cleansing Fire?"

Nuriel hesitated. "Not alone. We are waiting for the fairies. If we bleed out another handful, we will, though."

The moonlight cast a grotesque grimace on Lucifer's face when he smiled.

"Bring them to the Basilica. In Rome. Let's cleanse the world from all evil and make our entrance to Heaven truly memorable."

* * *

Vinyáya gripped the window sill of the smashed window and checked her helmet camera for any signs of life. The screen notified her about some fairies a few rooms away. Satisfied, she swung into the hospital room and sprinted into the corridor. Her hand flew to the pair of handcuffs on her hip and barricaded the possible exit door. Nobody would be able to leave through that window anymore. Including her.

Her lips were pressed into a firm line, her body tense as she dashed forward, dodging some wild fairies who tried to grab her. She kicked one ponderous pixie in the stomach and shot a nurse in the shoulder. Jumping over the nurse on the ground, she rushed to the stairs and took three steps at a time.

None of the Council members would have been able to do that. Most of the high-ranking officers stopped to workout, once they were tasked with all the paperwork that their jobs included. They started eating jam-filled doughnuts and rested on their laurels. The wing commander never stopped. Partly, because she couldn't allow herself to show any weakness in the Force. Partly, because she didn't want to. She had joined the Force to make a difference. Age or rank were no excuses.

Vinyáya reached the hospital's top level, hardly out of breath and stepped into the corridor. She pressed herself against the wall, her helmet feeding her with a flood of information. The younger officers often felt sick or lost concentration from the information overload. After decades of working in the Force, her eyes jumped between the screens and the scene in front of her, processing everything around her.

She lifted her pistol the moment the lights in her blaster went out, one by one. Vinyáya blinked, pulling the trigger. Once. Twice. Nothing. She gritted her teeth. Vega. The Council had deactivated all her personal authorized weapons. Great timing, boys, she thought, letting her eyes roam over the empty corridor. Thankfully, her helmet was still spitting out status reports, telling her about the group of fairies in the room at the far end of the corridor.

She passed the smashed window, from which the two gremlins had jumped out. The flapping of a piece of clothing on one of the shards caught Vinyáya's eye. Her fingers wrapped around the biggest shard and broke it off. The cut on her hand was healed within seconds and she grimly regarded the weapon in her hand.

Vinyáya approached the room to her left. There were three people inside, judging by the footage of her helmet camera. She'd have the moment of surprise as well as being a trained officer. She could knock them out with a few well-placed hand jabs to the carotid artery.

All these thoughts rushed through her head as she opened the door with a swift movement and punched the sprite right next to her in the throat with her fist. He went down immediately, alerting the elf at the other end of the room.

Vinyáya darted across the room, taking in the scene. The unconscious sprite on the floor wouldn't pose a problem after all, her blood on Sebastian's mouth. The elf on the other hand was now raising a metal rod to fight off her incoming punch. Vinyáya ducked away, thrusting the glass shard upwards to block the attack with a loud clank.

He swung the rod high above his head, swinging down and aiming for her head. Vinyáya rolled away. The steel hit a gas bottle at the wall, knocking a valve off. Leaking gas filled the room, the biting smell following. As soon as she registered the escaping gas, Vinyáya threw the glass shard away.

"Listen–," she tried, but he ran after her, panting. Vinyáya dodged the rod, backing away into the corridor. Sebastian followed and swung his weapon around. The wing commander ducked once more. She clenched her fist and waiting for an opening, punched him in the face. Holding his cheek, Sebastian stumbled back. He blinked, the wild look on his face faltering.

"Listen, Stampa. There is a gas leakage behind you. If anyone gets hurt, any magic sparks will make the whole place blow up," Vinyáya said, lifting her hands.

The elf's face scrunched up, his eyes welling up.

Please, no breakdown, Vinyáya prayed. "Do you understand what I am saying?"

He nodded, swallowing. "Are you going to kill me?"

"Mr Stampa. Sebastian. It is not my intention to hurt you. Will you please talk to me?"

His eyes widened and he lowered the weapon in his hands. "I tried to stop it. I really did. But they want us. They want our blood."

Vinyáya held up her hands, trying to calm him. "I believe you, Sebastian. It wasn't your fault. But I will need your help to stop this madness from spreading."

He nodded several times, more to himself. "They want to get back to Heaven. But they can't without our blood."

"Very good, Sebastian. We will go to the headquarters and we will record your statement," Vinyáya said, her eyes never leaving his face, watching out for every single twitch on the nervous elf's face.

His hands were shaking. "I can't. I hurt all these people. I didn't want to, but I couldn't stop."

"Nobody is accusing you of anything, Sebastian. Come to the police station and help us solve this problem."

The doors behind her opened. She didn't have to turn around to know who it would be.

The elf's eyes filled with tears as he watched the bitten fairies come closer.

"I am so sorry," he whispered, slamming his hand on the ragged rod end with a pained grunt. The sparks that started to heal his wounds ignited the gas in an instant.

Vinyáya's instincts took over. Her feet moved at their own accord, sprinting to the open window. She'd only have a chance if she got enough space between herself and the explosion. The fall from the top of the hospital building wasn't a much better option, but her survival chances might be slightly better. She managed to grab the window sill when the impact of the explosion catapulted her forward. Her kneecaps crunched. The heat burned her back. She shouted in pain, the sound broadcasted to Root and Foaly through the one-way communication line.

Root looked up in time to see her dropping from the building, her silver ponytail blowing wildly in the wind. He cursed, running towards her, while the top level of the hospital collapsed, sending rubble flying everywhere.

"Wing Commander," Foaly called out to her. "Don't worry about the impact. Your lungs are definitely going to explode and your bones will be crushed. But your head will be protected. I have recently upgraded the helmet lining with nylon-silicone sponges. They are ten times more effective than the old cushioning pads. So that should... a-nd she is a goner. No worries, your magic is already kicking in!"

Root sprinted the last few feet to Vinyáya's form laying on the pavement, blood pooling around her in a sea of red. But Foaly had been right. Her magic had already kicked in and mended her broken body. Debris from the hospital fell on the street. Root scooped the unconscious elf up in his arms, getting her out of harm's way. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the flashing of cameras. The damned photographers were still there.

Karen Burdock dashed over with her cameraman. She held a mic under his nose, while the hospital kept burning.

"Commander, what can you tell us about the Wing Commander? Is it true that you two are star-crossed lovers and that Wing Commander Vinyáya tried to save your life by sacrificing herself?"

Root tried to move around the sprite, but she kept blocking his path, his face turning redder by the minute.

"Is it true that you two met at the Academy, but were never allowed to marry because of your feuding families?" the journalist kept going on.

"Get out of my way, civilian, or I'll have you detained," he barked, pushing through, the magic sparks dancing around him, giving him an otherworldly glow. Behind him, Burdock turned to the camera.

"A truly heartbreaking story. Is this the reason for the Commander's bad temper and general disregard for women? Can this sacrifice bring them back together after such a long time? Let's have a look at our exclusive pictures of the Commander dashing to rescue the Wing Commander."

Root was rushed into the medic tent, where several healers busied themselves to place Vinyáya on one of the beds. They pulled the helmet off her head. Blood was oozing out of her ears and nose. Root gritted his teeth, grabbing the healer elf next to him by his shirt.

"I want _all_ of your healers taking care of her. Do not let anyone get in here. Do you hear me?"

The poor elf kept nodding, his ears shaking. Root let him go, leaving the tent with one last look at Raine's face. Immediately, he had that annoying Burdock following him again. He was about to tell her, where to put her stupid star-crossed lover story when he had an idea.

"Yes," he said, turning to the camera. Burdock squealed in delight.

"Oh my, oh _my_! So, do tell our audience. It is true then? Your romance with the Wing Commander has been _sabotaged_ from the beginning, is that correct?"

Root nodded. "It has been an... elaborate plan. The Council has been on it, as well," he made himself say.

Burdock gasped in shock. "The Council too? What is their role in this whole mess?"

"They have framed Wing Commander Vinyáya as well as my trusted Captain Short in a ruse to get them both kicked off the Force and–"

"And to drive a wedge between the two of you?!" exclaimed Burdock. She had already targeted the arriving Council's Gardai and rushed forward, demanding a statement from the pitiful officers, who were only trying to do their jobs. They would be getting the spanking of their lives by their appalled mothers.

Root stopped himself from rolling his eyes and turned around to his officers, who had surrounded the hospital and kept their guns on the entrance.

"Foaly, I need your techies down here, ASAP. I need a stabilizing magnetic field to evacuate the people in the hospital and stun grenades. A lot of them."

He couldn't believe it, but he was hoping that the Mud Men were more successful aboveground.

* * *

The rising sun warmed the desert sand and drove away the shadows of the night as Butler and Sofia returned to the hotel. All Sofia wanted was a shower and her bed, but Butler refused to enter their rooms, fearing that some angels had stayed back to finish them off.

"That means the plane is off-limits too?"

Butler nodded as he went around the hotel, scanning the rooms as he passed along the wall.

"I have a plan," he said when he spotted an open balcony door on the first floor. Sofia followed his gaze to the darkened room.

"Wait here," he said before jumping up and grabbing the balustrades, pulling himself up. Sofia watched as he climbed onto the balcony like an Olympic athlete. She blinked, realizing how she was ogling him. Flustered, she shot a look around.

What if he killed whoever was laying in that room, sleeping? To steal their car, or their phones or their money? Then she would be an accomplice, standing here and keeping watch. She should try to save those people. But she couldn't climb like an acrobat up the first floor. Before she made herself try it, he returned to the balcony. No blood on his hands, though, as he grabbed the railing and jumped down, landing on his feet. Misinterpreting her stare, he nodded towards the street. "Someone will pick us up."

"Who?"

"A friend, he lives close by. He can get us to Jerusalem and from there, we can catch a flight," he explained.

"A flight to where?" Where _could_ they go?

Butler shrugged. "Somewhere save. We'll regroup and figure something out."

He would have liked to go home to his family. Get the necessary equipment. The premises were protected too. Nobody could enter, no humans and no angels. But it would take too long to fly to Russia. He didn't have that time. The longer they waited, the more likely it was that Artemis would be deemed useless. That or he would make some reckless comment that would drive his kidnapper over the edge.

He had contacts in Istanbul, they might help him out. Plus, nobody would be able to make the connection. They avoided the main streets and kept a short distance away until a car appeared. Someone rolled down the car window and lifted a hand.

Butler let out a small sigh. It was who he had waited for. He walked up to the street, scanning the surroundings, Sofia behind him. Butler opened the side door for her before he got in next to the Israeli driver. The two men greeted each other, exchanging a pound hug.

"Jerusalem?" the Israeli asked, shooting Sofia a curious glance.

"Can you organise a flight to Istanbul, Eliam?" Butler asked in perfect Hebrew.

Eliam nodded, making a call on his phone. " _Achoti,_ I need a flight to Istanbul in about three hours. For the Wolf... Yes. Hurry."

Once he hung up, Sofia tipped him on the shoulder. "Do you have a first aid kit?"

"Under the driver's seat."

Sofia leaned over and pulled the box out from under the seat. Balancing it on her knees, she took antiseptic, iodine and bandages out. Butler turned around and held out his hand. Lost in thought, she took it and sprayed the antiseptic generously on his bloodied knuckles, oblivious to Butler's widening eyes. Occupying herself with cleaning the wound, she took the bandages and wrapped them around Butler's hand.

Odd, how the bandage was as white as Artemis' face. She wondered if he was in Hell with Lucifer or if they were already on their way to Heaven. Would the ring at least protect the boy? The cursed ring she had found in the Basilica back when… The ring!

"We have to go to Rome," she said out loud, looking up from Butler's hand and blinking rapidly. Butler noticed the redness of her eyes around the outline of her contact lenses and briefly wondered how long she had been wearing them.

"We are going to Istanbul, Professor," he said dismissively, about to turn away. She touched him by the shoulder.

"I know how to save Artemis."

That made him stop. "How?"

"The ring. It was where...," she shot Eliam a look before saying, "I found _him_ ".

"And?"

"I only knew because of the Archive in the Vatican. I might find an answer there on how to put him _back_."

Butler wasn't convinced. "Doesn't mean Artemis will show up."

"True, but the answers are there. And the longer we wait the less likely we'll be able to stop them from opening a portal to… Heaven." She shot Eliam another look, but he kept looking straight ahead as if she had been commenting on the weather.

"You can just walk into the Archive?"

Sofia hesitated. "Not exactly, but I know somebody who can."

Should he trust the professor on her hunch? Rome was roughly the same distance away as Istanbul. It wouldn't take much longer to reach. Her opinion could decide over Artemis' life or death, though. Was he willing to risk Artemis' life? How much did he trust her? He looked at her, taking in her torn clothes, the wild hair and her dust-covered skin. Finally, he nodded.

"Rome."

Eliam pulled his phone out, calling the same phone number again.

* * *

 **A/N:** That's us. Once again, thanks to everyone who stuck with me until now. I hope I'll see you all in 2021 in a better, safer and opener world. Take care, everybody and until next time.


	20. Chapter 19

**Author's Note** : Happy New Year, everybody! I hope you had a good start into 2021 and have lots of amazing plans that will all be realized this year. Fanfiction-wise I have a few things planned this year. I don't want to tell too much, but you can expect much more Butler in 2021!

Anyway, back to the present, you have been waiting for the next chapter long enough. Here it is. Enjoy!

Special thanks to everybody who left a comment or kudos or both. It is so much fun to engage with readers and really makes my day so much sweeter. Hey, that even rhymed! :-)

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination.

* * *

**Chapter 19**

The Major scraped another handful of soil out of the hole. The dirt was wedged under his fingernails, his skin dry and itchy from the dirt. At this point, he wasn't even sure, why he continued digging. The hole was already quite deep, but it wasn't revealing anything that would have helped him. If any of the other souls had stopped to ask what he was looking for, he wouldn't have had an answer.

He paused when a shiver ran through his body. Somebody was behind him.

"Congratulations, my friend. You have served me well," Lucifer said.

So, it was over. Lucifer had promised him a way out of this place, but the Major was no fool. He had done some research during his time protecting Sofia. He had never been religious, but Wikipedia had given him enough information on Lucifer to not take anything he said at face value. There was likely no escape from Hell. Once his task had been fulfilled, he would cease to exist.

Which wouldn't have to be a bad thing. Escaping the weary drag? It went against all his training and everything he believed in, but he secretly welcomed that the decision would be taken out of his hands.

He hoped for a quick death. The seconds ticked by and he continued to feel very much _alive_ and no sharp pain between his shoulder blades, indicating his slow demise. The Major rose from the ground and turned. If Lucifer had seen the hole in the ground he deliberately ignored it. His teeth seemed to gleam.

"I had my doubts if you could manage, considering your… state. My friend, you have exceeded my expectation. You must look forward to leaving this place, huh?"

The Major inclined his head, acknowledging the praise.

Lucifer held his hands upwards and a small wooden box with colourful decorations on its lid appeared. The angel offered it to the Major, who took it without hesitating, never breaking eye contact with Lucifer. The box was unusually heavy, possibly filled with something. He held it, one hand on top of the lid. Lucifer's smile became unnerved, the longer he kept looking into the Major's eyes.

"You can open the box whenever you like and it will take you out of here," he offered.

The Major nodded. "I appreciate you keeping your end of the bargain."

Lucifer's smile became strained. "Of course, I promised that I would, didn't I?"

"You did."

The Major began to smile. The smile had no menace in it. In fact, it could almost be described as cheerful. And it terrified Lucifer.

"I better be going. You know, my boyfriend is waiting," he said, before departing hastily.

The Major dropped his unsettling smile as soon as Lucifer had disappeared, pushing the wooden box into his jacket. The sun would set in about ten hours. He would wait.

* * *

Holly and Trouble exited the shuttle, busying themselves with working the buttons and switches of the shuttle bay. When everything was clear, they activated the chute doors and stepped into the Israeli desert in the light of dawn.

The two captains flew to the coordination Foaly had sent them to their helmets, hovering above the oasis and scanning the surroundings for any forms of life. Angelic or human. The new upgrades Foaly had equipped the LEP helmets with, in particular the powerful ground-penetrating radar, told Holly and Trouble exactly where they would be able to pass through the sand and into the underground city.

Holly gave Trouble a nod and both shot down through the sand into Angel Jericho. Trouble's gaze drifted over the marble statues and buildings before he noticed the rubble in the distance. They flew closer, an abyss opening up in front of them. Trouble's helmet picked up some heat on the ground, notifying him with a subtle sound.

"Someone's there," Holly said, who had gotten the same notification. "Looks like an adult person."

Too small for Butler, though, she thought as she lowered herself several feet. It was a Mud Man. He was half-buried underneath the rubble and dangerously close to the chasm. Holly landed on a rubble pile next to him, noticing the dark stain on his clothes. She couldn't tell if he was still breathing. Regardless, she grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him out from the stone heap before placing her hand on his ribcage.

"Heal," she whispered, watching the sparks dance over the body, sinking in and healing all his wounds in no time.

Holly gazed at the handsome man, while Trouble watched Holly intensely as the man regained consciousness, his eyelids fluttering open. Red, hot glowing orbs focused in on them. Holly gasped, her eyes wide and jumped up, reaching for her gun.

The man sat up, touching his side that was now fully healed. He locked eyes with Holly, who kept her gun pointed at him.

"You healed me?" he asked, not unkindly.

"Who are you?"

He said his name like a foreign word, he himself hadn't used very often. "Yonatan."

Trouble recognised that name. "You are Lucifer's boyfriend? The one, the professor was looking for?"

Yonatan's eyebrows rose in surprise at this piece of information, but he nodded. "The very same."

"Who has done this to you?" Holly asked, lowering her gun.

The demon stroked his beard. "Lucifer."

Trouble planted a hand on his hip and in easy reach of his Neutrino Blaster. "That's unfortunate… but we got to go. Captain, if you don't mind?"

Yonatan stood. Trouble raised his gun. The demon lifted his hands. "You are trying to defeat the angels? I can help."

"You want to help defeat Lucifer? Sorry, but I find that hard to believe," Trouble said, frowning doubtfully.

The demon shook his head, various emotions flashing over his face. "Not Lucifer. The Nephilim. They have poisoned his mind. He is not evil."

Holly shot Trouble a gaze, who snorted.

"It's great you believe that, but I don't trust you. So, I'd appreciate it if you kept your distance."

"If you tell me, what you are looking for, I might be able to help."

Trouble ignored him and turned, but Holly hesitated.

"We have a handful of fairies underground. The one who was bitten by you– one of the angels, now he is running around, biting other fairies and they are all trying to get aboveground. Any ideas on that matter?"

A vein began pulsating in Trouble's temple. Holly was an amazing officer; her instincts were magical. And then she went and did stuff like this. He had no idea what was going on in her head.

The demon leaned his head to the side. "Sounds like a blood curse. They are lured to the angels' aura."

"How can we stop them?"

"I have never seen it done before. But if you kill the angel then his aura will be extinguished. That should make the fairies stop."

"And how are we supposed to do that? Ask the angels to come here and stay still until we chop off their heads?" Trouble shook his head in annoyance, stumbling through the rubble. Holly shrugged at Yonatan before following her colleague back into the settlement.

Foaly's voice came crackling to life through their earpieces. "Flare... over... Test, test. Holly, Trouble? What's your status? Did you reach alright? I have had a look at the written records in the Ancient Frond Directory. There were some guardians placed in Jericho before the angels abandoned this place. Presumably to keep anyone out, who wasn't supposed to snoop around. That includes you two by the way. The pictures are pretty scary, wouldn't want to cross paths with them."

"What are we looking for, anyway?" Trouble asked out loud.

"Butler said something about a sword. Do you see anything pointy lying around?"

How were they supposed to find anything in these ruins? You'd have more success finding a needle in a haystack. Holly stepped between some pillars, looking up. All of them were inscribed. Mostly with praises for the angelic race that would salvage the world from the excesses that humankind had proven to be. In a way they had the same stance on Mud Men, she thought. Just different ways of solving the problem.

"Do you think there would be something like a sign 'Angel's sword, this way?'" she asked over her shoulder.

Trouble came over, following her gaze. "With some sort of instructions like 'Don't hold it by the pointy bit?'"

Holly grinned at the thought, despite the serious situation. "Too easy, huh?"

She kept walking, kicking a stone in her path away, making it hit a white marble. Holly stopped in her tracks, listening. Then she kicked another stone against the wall. Now Trouble heard it, too. A low growl. Both of them looked up, a horned creature crouching on one of the pillars. Its tiny eyes were glinting with malice, observing their next move. But it wasn't attacking. Yet. The elves backed away, but the creature's growl got louder and began snarling. They froze.

"Why isn't it attacking?" Holly mumbled, trying not to move her lips.

"It might be protecting that… wall? Let's move away from it."

They did and the creature quietened down. Holly gave the wall another examination, switching her camera to X-ray. It penetrated the wall and revealed a small chamber inside. It seemed empty, though.

"Looks like we found something."

Trouble kept his gaze on the creature, while reaching for his gun, ever so slowly.

"Let's find out what it is," he said and shot the creature between its eyes. It fell off its post, stunned, clearing the way for Holly and Trouble to get to work.

* * *

When reaching Jerusalem airport, Eliam didn't follow the endless line of cars to the drop-off point. Instead, he directed it to a separate lane, guarded by an airport official, who let them pass, once Eliam flashed an ID. Butler didn't even bat an eye at the way they were bypassing the usual airport security checks through a maze of white and sterile looking airport corridors.

Sofia had to hurry to keep up with the two men, covering the distance with their long legs. They hadn't talked much during the car ride, but she figured they knew each other through their military background. Eliam's shirt sleeves, stretching over his bulging muscles surely hadn't come from picking flowers. She wondered if he could clamber up balconies too.

Eliam opened another metal door to the hangar and pointed at a small jet. He left them to walk up to the plane, while he organised some spare pistol magazines for them. A stunning Israeli woman in uniform stepped out of the jet. The smile she gave Butler could have powered a small city. Butler hugged her tightly.

" _Achoti,_ keeping my boys in check?"

The woman stepped back, her smile faltering as she eyed Sofia.

"Rome, huh? Meeting the Pope?"

Butler only grinned mirthlessly. "Something like that."

She turned to Sofia, who pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, wishing for some miracle that would also smoothen the wild mess on her head. Weren't soldiers supposed to be all dirty and beaten up?

"Do you know how to fly?"

Sofia shook her head.

"Do you know how to read the controls and panels?"

Sofia shook her head again. She wished she did. Or that she had taken those Muay Thai classes after all.

"Give her a break, _"_ Butler said amicably. "She isn't a soldier."

The woman snorted as if that had been clear from the start. "You sure, you don't want me to come along? It'll be six hours."

Oh God, please no. Sofia's palms became increasingly sweatier. Six hours in a tiny jet with Israel's Superwoman and she'd kill herself. That or turn into a pumpkin.

Butler shook his head. "We'll be fine, _Achoti."_

Yeah, _sister,_ we'll be fine. Sofia pushed her hands into her jacket. Feeling the butt of her Glock through the material had a strangely calming effect.

Eliam came back with additional pistol magazines, handing them to Butler and Sofia.

"Thanks," Sofia mumbled. She pushed them into her pocket and climbed into the jet without looking back. No need to watch _that_ goodbye.

Butler climbed into the jet a short while later. He hesitated. "Do you want to be the co-pilot?"

Sofia averted her gaze with a frown. "I can't fly, _remember_?"

"I'll be flying. But the view is better in the pilot seats," he told her peaceably. She shrugged, but the small smile tugging at her lips gave her away as she moved to the cockpit.

Butler could fly a plane in his sleep, the controls and panels as familiar as the interior of a car. He didn't have to think about it. Today, however, he went through every step meticulously. He took a breath and focussed on the task at hand. One step at a time. He wouldn't be able to help Artemis if he panicked and crashed this plane. And he needed the professor and himself in one piece if they wanted to stop Lucifer. Butler took another breath, gripped the control wheel and took off.

Despite everything, it was a pleasant flight, Sofia thought, as they flew through a cloud. She even managed to not think of their mission for a few moments as she listened to Butler go through the countless flight steps like a checklist. She prayed he told her all this because he wanted to distract themselves from whatever they would be facing in Rome and not because he was about to make her fly this jet herself. He didn't and landed the jet safely in Italy's capital. Rome greeted them with a dark sky, cold winds pulling at their clothes. Most unusual for a day in August, but they didn't allow themselves any break to contemplate the meaning of this.

Butler hailed a taxi, ordering the bald man to drive them straight to the address, Sofia had given him earlier.

"I pay you double if we get there in under 30 minutes," he told the man. That prompted the driver to slam his foot on the gas pedal, making Sofia slam into Butler's shoulder before she could fasten her seatbelt.

Twenty minutes later, they were in the apartment complex in the _Via di Santa Maria alle Fornaci_. Sofia knocked on the door, praying for him to be there. It took a while, but eventually, she could hear shuffling in the hall. An old, wrinkled face cautiously opened the door.

"Sofia? _Cosa stai facendo qui?"_ The man opened the door wider but hesitated when his gaze fell on Butler and their appearance.

" _Padre,_ I am sorry to bother you at this late hour. I... we are in need...," she began, searching for words. The old priest nodded and invited them in. In the living room, he motioned to the couch before disappearing in the small kitchen to make tea.

Butler closed the curtains, peaking through a small opening to make sure they weren't being followed before pacing up and down the small room.

"Sit down, Butler. He is an old man. You'll make him nervous," she whispered. Even the painting of Jesus at the wall seemed to frown reproachfully.

The bodyguard sighed, but sat down on the couch, trying not to look at Jesus across the room.

"How do you know this man?" he asked instead.

"He was my brother's mentor during his training. We've crossed paths in the Archive a few times when I was doing my doctorate."

Butler was surprised. "Your brother is..."

"A priest. Did you think everybody in my family was a devil worshipper?" she said with a small grin.

"It just seems... odd."

"He doesn't know," she murmured as the old priest came into the room with a tray, filled with fragrant peppermint tea and cookies. He put it down on the small table and sat down in his armchair, facing them wordlessly. Waiting. He had aged rapidly since the last time, they had seen each other. His hair was completely grey, the face wrinklier than she remembered.

Sofia tried to cover her knee with the torn material of her dress, squirming under the elder man's gaze. Her stomach was growling but she didn't trust herself to be able to stop once she reached for the cookies. Butler didn't touch them either.

"Sofia," the priest began. "Are you involved in some illegal business?" he asked and gazed at Butler, who tried to look innocent.

"No, Padre. It is nothing like that. We are here, because...," she racked her brain, thinking of something. Anything. Suddenly she took Butler's hand into hers, enclosing it with her other hand.

"Padre, my friend, has been raised in an organisation in Russia. He has been truly gone through an ordeal but has embraced the true faith of the Catholic Church and I thought it my task, _duty,_ to help him."

The priest raised his greyed bushy eyebrows in astonishment, while Butler nearly lost control over his facial features. He tried to pull away his hand, but Sofia held on tight, her knuckles turning white from the effort.

"Is that the Khlysts sect? I thought they had been dissolved a few decades ago," the Padre murmured.

Sofia's nails dug into Butler's hand, trying to make him answer the question. Butler nodded.

"It's a hidden branch. Not many people know about it,... Father?"

The padre's face softened. "That is truly awful. I can't even begin to imagine the agony you must have gone through. The punishments. Are you in pain?"

Butler had no idea what the man was talking about. He had never heard of this sect before, but he guessed they were big on some form of punishment.

"It's fine. We have been on the run for a while now," he said vaguely.

"May I ask when you have found faith in the Catholic Church?"

Butler felt the professor's hands getting sweaty. Clearly, she hadn't thought this through. His gaze went back to the judgy Jesus, being whipped by some soldiers and he decided to wing it.

"It all began when I was being whipped by the two... overseers. 66 whip lashes." He felt the professor's fingers trembling.

"But then... a... white dove? A white dove came flying through the window and I thought... _knew_ the Messiah would save me," he concluded, hoping he hadn't overdone it.

The old priest stared at him, a single tear rolling down his cheek. "A miracle. Our Lord works in mysterious ways. Tell me, how I can help. Are you being followed, right now?"

Sofia let go of his hand, reaching for the cookies, hunger and stress prevailing over good manners.

"We don't want to impose on you, _Padre,"_ she said in between bites.

 _"_ What are your plans? Where will you go?"

"Trying to get rid of them. Getting the necessary documents for him to disappear for a while," Sofia fabricated, sounding as if she was rescuing sect members every other week and the priest nodded in understanding.

"You can stay here as long as you like. Sorry, I didn't get your name, good man."

Butler answered without having to think about it. "Constantin Bashkir."

"Constantin, if you like me to baptise you, I am happy to do it right now."

Sofia choked on her biscuit. "Maybe once we got him out of the line of fire," she coughed.

"Of course. I will prepare you two a bed for the night."

The old man got up and left the room to get some pillows and blankets from his bedroom. Butler spun to Sofia, who stuffed another two cookies into her mouth at once.

"I panicked," she said, crumbs flying everywhere.

"Why didn't you tell him, why we are here?"

"Because he would help us if we told him the Devil was about to let an army of angels raze the world to the ground? I doubt, he would have believed that."

The priest came back and started to convert the couch to a double bed. Sofia took the time to wash her face and shake some of the dust off that had settled in her hair and clothes. Once she returned to the living room, the priest turned to her. He took her hands in his and gave her an encouraging smile. "You did well, my child. Your deed won't go unnoticed by our Lord."

She smiled ruefully and nodded. "Thank you, _Padre_."

Once the old man had left the room, Sofia went to the desk and opened its drawers. She felt around the top and walls of the drawers. Nothing was hidden inside them, though. Butler watched her for a moment, taking a cookie from the plate.

"You never told anyone about Lucifer?"

Sofia gave him an incredulous look while opening another set of drawers.

"You _do_ realize that the story is highly fantastical? Nobody would believe me. Besides, this knowledge would topple the foundations of the Church. The world isn't ready for such an impact. It could cause wars; people would get killed."

Butler couldn't help an ironic smile forming on his lips. "Instead, you rather be the keeper of these secrets?"

"I can handle the truth," Sofia said absentmindedly, leafing through a folder.

"Do you still go to church?"

Sofia paused and looked up, meeting his gaze. "It's important for my family. Plus, it's hard to get out of it, if your brother is a priest. He used to quiz me on his sermons. Pray, you'll never have to sit through one of those. He managed to keep talking for an hour once. People fainted from exhaustion."

She grinned as if remembering the punch line of a good joke. Butler raised an eyebrow. Sounded like a crazy family. Then he thought of Juliet and the rest of his clan and kept quiet.

Sofia put the folder back the way she had found it, patting the smooth wooden desk like it would conjure its spirit and spill its secrets.

"What are you looking for?"

"There is a code we'll need to enter the Archive. We'll also have to somehow disable the alarm system and cameras... and get rid of the security guards."

Butler ate another cookie, oddly calm at the prospect of breaking into the Vatican's archive. She had told him her plan (if it could be called that) on the way to the airport, of course. It was the only way, they'd get access to the Archive and the restricted sections. To have a look at documents, one had to specifically request them. The process took weeks and the documents they needed would have to be approved by the pope. Approval he'd never grant. Breaking into the archive at night promised to be more successful. It wasn't the craziest thing, Butler had ever done.

"Where would he keep the code?" Butler asked.

"Padre Matias has a bad memory, he will have it written down somewhere or have it somewhere, where he sees it every day."

Butler stood and looked around the room. Eventually, his gaze fell on the Jesus painting again and he stepped closer. It would haunt him right into his dreams, but it wasn't the scene that bugged him. He examined the pillar and the numbers, etched into the stone. Oddly out of place. As if the painter had added them as an afterthought.

"What about this one?" he pointed to the Latin numbers.

Sofia followed his finger. MDCCCLXXX. 1880. That was odd. The painting was… 17th century? Definitely not 19th. She walked up to Butler's side, studying the scene for a moment. Leaning closer, the scene disappeared and only the brushstrokes stood out, overlapping and lifting away from the canvas. Every brushstroke, except for the numbers. She made an approving sound.

"The numbers aren't painted with oil paint. They were added much later. You've got a good eye."

"Let's hope it's not an original," Butler said dryly. Sofia chuckled before she could stop herself. Clearing her throat, she went to the door.

"Let's go with that. How are you with disabling alarm systems?"

"Depends on how advanced they are," Butler answered truthfully. "Isn't he going to wonder, where we are?"

Sofia stopped, hand on the doorknob.

"Padre Matias could sleep through an earthquake. Ideally, we will sneak back in the morning. He will organize some transport for you to go back to Ireland. If we fail…," she trailed off and squared her shoulders. "We'll end up in jail."

Business as usual, Butler thought grimly and followed Sofia out of the flat and back on to the busy streets of Rome.

* * *

 **A/N** : How would you like to break into the _Vatican Secret Archive?_ Let's find out if Butler and Sofia are the born cat burglars… or not. On a side note, it gives me immense pleasure, putting Butler and Sofia in hilariously awkward moments. Can you tell? Comments and kudos are always appreciated. Until next time!


	21. Chapter 20

**Author's Note:** Welcome back, my beautiful readers. Let's break into the Vatican! Extra points for anyone, who picks up on the "Angels & Demons" (by Dan Brown) references. Enjoy!

Thanks to everyone who left a kudos or a comment. Your support means the world to me!

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination.

* * *

**Chapter 20**

Most of the clergy had retreated from the streets of Vatican City with the approaching night. Countless tourists, on the other hand, were on the hunt for the perfect shot of some romantically lit columns, while the local youth wandered from one night club to the next, singing the latest chart hits with an enthusiasm that made up for being completely out of tune.

Butler heard the group of drunk teenagers from afar, pulling Sofia into the shadows of the unlit side of the street. He waited until he was sure the teenagers entered the fast-food restaurant for their late-night munchies.

"If you do that every time we pass people, we'll never make it," Sofia said impatiently. She was right, of course. It didn't change the fact that they would be easily distinguishable in their tattered outfits. Not ideal if they had to make a run for it. They crossed St. Peter's Square, following Via Sant' Anna before turning into one of the side streets that led through a small green space. Butler picked up a few big stones from the ground and pocketed them.

"Is there a side or a delivery entrance?" Butler asked.

He had thought about how to break into the Archive ever since they had left Padre Matias' flat. Butler didn't tend to break into high-security buildings. Usually, he was on the other side, _preventing_ burglaries from happening. Which was their biggest advantage as he knew the security protocol like the back of his hand.

If the Vatican took their security seriously, there would be several safety mechanisms. Cameras on the outside of the building, monitoring the surrounding area. Keys and codes for added security, if you wanted to enter the premises. At least two night guards on every floor, taking turns in patrolling the building. Maybe German Shepard dogs. Reports that they needed to send every half an hour, possibly more often.

Butler was positive that they could get into the Archive without much hassle. He could smash a camera with a stone. That would trigger an alarm, which meant that some guard would have to go and check what had caused the camera failure. He could overwhelm the guard, nicking the keys and putting on the uniform. This would give them some time to get to the documents, Sofia needed. In theory.

"The back door is in the middle of the street. How are you planning on taking the guard down without him sounding his alarm first?"

"I was thinking of the lost-tourist-asking-for-the-way-trick. That way, we can get close enough. Usually works."

She regarded him sceptically. "We look like homeless people. They will think, we want to rob them."

"Do you have a better idea?" he grumbled. She didn't.

"You are not going to kill him, are you?"

Butler lifted an eyebrow and gave her a pointed look.

"I don't go around, killing people." If he could help it.

Sofia wasn't convinced, but let it drop. She would save it for when he killed the first man.

"You play the victim then. Distract him and I'll knock him out."

They moved towards the back entrance, stopping a few feet away from the nearest camera to avoid being filmed. Butler saw two, mounted on top of the wall, covering nearly the whole street.

"Are those the only security cameras?" he asked, trying to discern any hidden safety measurements. Sofia nodded, although she never had taken much notice of the cameras in the Archive. After all, she never had to break into the building before.

"Not very secure," Butler commented.

"It's not as if the documents are very sought after. It's much harder to sell an old script than a statue from any other church in Rome."

Butler was pretty sure this wasn't true. People on the black market would pay a tidy sum of money for the right document. Sofia guessed what he was thinking.

"Okay, not _every_ statue, but it is much easier than breaking into the Archive. Even if you get in, you won't grab your loot and leave. You'll need codes and keys and know where to go. The underground halls are a maze and without the necessary knowledge of several ancient languages, you won't have any idea what is worth the trouble."

That made more sense. Butler grabbed one of the stones in his pocket. Checking if anyone else was coming down the street, he hurled it at the camera. It hit its mark, making the camera shake violently. Butler grunted satisfied, throwing a second and a third stone, which cracked the outer shell of the plastic. The fourth made the camera fall to the ground with a loud clank.

"Nice shots," Sofia said impressed before Butler pulled her around the corner and out of sight.

"There might be a lot more guards inside," Butler said, while they waited. "Worst case scenario, they'll have several guards on every level."

Sofia looked down the street. "Possibly, but the Vatican would also need to pay all those people for their work. They aren't the most generous employers."

Unconvinced, Butler checked his Rolex, watching the minutes go by, without anything happening. They were still waiting, five minutes later.

"Against protocol," he murmured.

Butler didn't mind waiting. He was used to much longer stake-outs and could stand in the same position for hours if he had to. But if the Vatican security team wasn't following the protocols he was counting on, the whole plan would go up in smoke. He was about to think of another plan when the door of the Archive finally opened. A young guard came out and examined the damaged security camera.

Butler jerked his head towards the entrance. Sofia straightened and staggered into the street. " _Mi scusi! Aiuto!"_

The guard's hand shot to his hip, ready to pull out his baton before he registered her torn and dirty clothes.

"Are you okay, Miss? Are you in trouble?" he asked in Italian. Sofia tried to cry, but she couldn't manage the tears to come, her face contorted in a miserable grimace.

"I... it happened really fast," she stepped to the side, apparently confused and scared. The guard turned to look at her face until he was standing with his back to the street corner she had appeared from. Butler took advantage of the opportunity and silently moved up to the unsuspecting guard. A quick jab to the nerve cluster at his neck was all he needed before the guard slumped unconsciously to the ground.

Butler dragged the man around the corner and freed him of his security equipment as well as his jacket. He shrugged his own jacket off and handed it to Sofia. She made a face at the torn material in her hand.

"Do you want to keep this?"

He nodded as he tried to put the guard's uniform on and hardly managed to pull it over his shoulders. The seams protested loudly and Butler began to lose the feeling in his fingers. Wincing, he hunched his shoulders and followed Sofia to the entrance. She stood in front of the pin pad, her fingers hovering over the keys until Butler nudged her with his foot. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the first key down.

1-8-8-0-*

The screen glowed green and Butler pushed the door open, the jacket ripping open at his elbow. Nothing to be done about it now. Butler gritted his teeth, his eyes jumping at the slightest noise. He registered light coming from a cubicle window a few feet away. The control room.

He looked down at Sofia, who nodded and darted towards it. Crossing her fingers, she prayed that she wouldn't be shot at sight. Her worries were uncalled for as the second guard was currently busy with biting into a filled pastry, squirting jam on his white shirt. He cursed and tried to wipe it away with a tissue, spreading it further on his uniform. His gaze fell on Sofia when he reached for another paper tissue.

"Hey, you are not supposed to be here," he said, getting up and stepping outside the small security office. He was unconscious before he even hit the floor.

Sofia leaned over the man. "They'll wake up, right?"

Butler gave her a dry look, brushing past her and sitting down in the guard's seat. He began meddling with the computer system, his eyes flitting over the monitors. The Archive was empty.

"Where are the other guards?"

Sofia stepped inside the booth, following his gaze.

"Told you. The Vatican is stingy. That's why they invented the letters of indulgence."

Shaking his head, Butler began tapping into the firewall. It took him 10 minutes. His computer skills weren't as sophisticated as Artemis'. For an institution like the Vatican, however, the lack of security was appalling. Great for the two of them, sneaking around in the Archive, but still shocking, he stated matter-of-factly.

Sofia hardly managed to suppress a nervous giggle. "You know what they say. Pray and you shall receive."

Butler didn't react, instead, he grabbed one of the torches on the guard's desk.

"Get it? Because we are–"

"Yes, I got that. Please focus."

"Right. Sorry," she mumbled and pointed towards the corridor. "The restricted area is two floors down. It's that way."

Butler paused for a moment. "Will I need to disable the security system for the reading rooms? The oxygen-regulated ones?"

Now, Sofia did chuckle. "Oxygen-regulated reading rooms? 90% of the people coming here are over 60. You'd manage to kill _them_ before you'd ever find any use for such secure reading rooms."

The cold stone stairs echoed with their steps as they briskly descended into the Archive.

"No bullet- and sound-proof rooms either?" Butler asked with a wry grin.

Sofia smiled. "Just another old, boring archive."

Once they reached the lower level, Butler couldn't help a surprised frown at row after row of grey mobile shelving. This was the complete opposite of the high-tech archive he had expected. More surprising, however, was the professor, who dashed forward, despite only being guided by some cryptic labels that were attached to the shelf racks. She stopped in front of a shelf.

"This is it."

Butler started to turn the wheel and all the shelves began to move with a whirring sound. Sofia squeezed in, as soon as the opening was big enough, her eyes skimming over the abbreviations of the magazine files. _Bul, Bra, Bts._ She stood on her tiptoes to read the next few abbreviated authors. _Cal_. She reached out but barely touched it with her fingertips. Butler glanced over his shoulder in the unlikely case of more night guards before he shone the torchlight into the newly-formed aisle. Seeing the professor struggle with the shelf above her head, he stepped closer and picked the file out. She gave him a grateful smile, opening it and pulling the documents out. Reading under her breath, she suddenly squinted.

"It speaks of the _demon_ imprisoned in the ring, which was hidden in St. Peter's Basilica in the Altar of St. Michael," Sofia said and pointed at a passage.

"Why there?"

"When Lucifer rose against God, Michael was the one who cast him to Hell."

"Will we have to go to the altar again?"

Sofia thought about that for a second. "I am not sure. Probably not. There was a note on this...," she moved her finger over the rough paper, trying to find the sentence she remembered from the first time she read it.

Butler turned his head to get a better look at the text when his sixth sense began to tingle. He switched off the torchlight, plunging them into darkness at the same time as someone pushed open a door at the end of the hall. Sofia froze, her eyes staring blindly into the blackness, while the door slammed shut.

Butler listened to the sound of heavy boots walking down the corridor. The cameras hadn't shown anyone else in the Archive, Butler was sure of it. And still, someone was headed their way. The footsteps became louder, purposefully walking towards their hideout. Had the guard woken up? Butler could have sworn, he had used enough pressure to make sure the man would be out for at least another hour. But if it wasn't the guard and if he hadn't overlooked any other people, then... Reaching into his jacket, Butler cocked his Sig Sauer, wincing at the sound of more material ripping along his arm. The click of his pistol was soft as a whisper in comparison. The footsteps stopped.

"So, you made it out alive," a familiar voice said.

Sofia gasped in surprise. Even Butler was taken aback.

"Uncle?"

Turning the torch back on, Butler shone it into his uncle's face, who held up his hand in annoyance. "Get this thing out of my face."

"How is it that you are only around when things go south?" Butler asked suspiciously, remembering how everything had gone downhill, once his uncle had either disappeared or not been around, to begin with. He raised his pistol.

The Major held up his hands. "I never worked against you."

"Give me one reason to believe you," Butler growled. He was sick and tired of the secrecy.

The Major sighed, sounding old and tired. "This is hardly the time–"

"This is the _best_ time," Butler interrupted in a calm voice. Too calm. Sofia shivered. She couldn't see his face, but his tone terrified her. Even the Major realized that his nephew was dead serious. He nodded.

"I guess, it is. You may ask your questions."

Sofia's eyes darted from one Butler to the other. "Uh, will you manage to have your men talk without the torchlight? I'll… work on the script..."

Butler handed her the torch before he turned around and strode to the door. The Major followed him, grim satisfaction in his gaze as he observed the guard's jacket fighting a losing battle against his nephew's broad back. The boy had grown into a strong man. Of course. He hadn't given him a hard time all his life without reason and he wasn't going to stop now. Considering the circumstances, he might have to let him in on a few things, though. Before he was cast back down to Hell. The Major wasn't so arrogant to think he didn't deserve to end in Hell, but countless other people didn't belong there. Maybe the boy could make some use of this knowledge.

Butler stopped underneath the emergency exit lamp, his face half-illuminated by its faint glow.

"You are dead," he said in a flat voice.

"And you are not asking me a question. Don't waste time with unnecessary exposition, _malchik,"_ the Major scolded him, the words out of his mouth before he could remind himself that there wasn't time for educational admonition. Seeing, how the boy clenched his jaw to keep himself in check, he would need to concentrate on more important things.

"How is this possible?" Butler asked.

The Major reached into his shirt and lifted a necklace with a blue stone into the air, the stone casting a faint light on his face. It was the same one that the professor had been wearing around her neck.

"I have never been religious," he began, much to Butler's surprise. He didn't expect his uncle to start like this.

"Let's not make this into a sob story. Fact is, there is a Hell and I have been cast into it after I was killed in that explosion. I spent my time dodging predators from tearing me apart. Which seems to be their only purpose."

Butler stared at him, listening in silence. If he hadn't experienced the last few days, he would have laughed in his face. Now it made sense. In a sick, cruel kind of way.

"And no, before you ask, I am not telling you to change your ways to become a better person. This is it. There is no other place."

Suddenly, the professor's outbreak in the underground tunnel made much more sense.

"So, there is a life after death, where you will be killed by wild animals," Butler summarized.

The Major nodded.

"Why are you telling me this?"

His uncle shrugged, letting go of the stone. "You wanted answers. I never said they would be cheery or solve all problems."

"And Lucifer?"

"He offered me a way out of Hell. Then he tried to break the deal," the Major snarled.

Such a passionate outbreak didn't surprise Butler at all. He still remembered his first beating from his uncle when he had tried to cheat in P'yanitsa. It had been a freaking card game and he had been six.

"How?"

Before the Major could answer, a heavy object fell on the floor with a dull thud. Both men jerked their heads towards the noise that had come from down the corridor.

"I'm okay," the professor half-shouted.

Butler lifted an eyebrow, shooting his uncle a look, who responded with the same expression.

"She is a handful," the Major rumbled, stepping back into the aisle and towards the source of the noise. Unable to resist a grin, Butler followed his uncle.

"Tell me about it."

* * *

**A/N** : Double Butler-power for the win! I hope you had fun with this little break in. To be fair, it is only half as hard with a Butler at your side.

Also, it is possible to have a look at documents in the Vatican Archive. But as Sofia mentioned in the last chapter (I forgot to put that into the A/N last time), you'll have to fill in a lengthy application form, stating, among other things, which specific documents you want to look at. You can't take anything with you and you can't visit longer than 3 consecutive months. On top of that, the Vatican only allows 60 researchers to enter the Archive per day. So, it really _is_ easier to break in, hehe.

Luckily, Sofia got to work for the Archive during her doctorate… otherwise, Lucifer wouldn't run free, huh? :-D

Anyway, last three chapters! It is going to go down in a formidable finale. So… check in next chapter. Take care and until next time!


	22. Chapter 21

**Author's Note:** I am so sorry you had to wait so long for this chapter, my beautiful readers. I've been holding off to edit this chapter. Partly, because I was working on other AF fanfics, partly, because I don't want this story to end, haha. But, I'll make amends. You'll get chapter 22 next Wednesday and the last (sob!) chapter the following Wednesday. 😊

A special thanks to the lovely **Assan** , who offered to translate my fanfic into German. The link is in the notes, so check it and her out, as she has also written several Dragon Age fanfics in German.

And a big thanks to everyone who left kudos and/or comments. You guys are the lip balm to my chapped lips. The butter to my uncoated pan. The charging cable to my phone. You are the best!

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination and the characters, I have created. Although _owning_ is debatable and would probably earn me a beating from Lucifer and a lecture from Sofia.

* * *

**Chapter 21**

The low gravelly voices of the Butler men formed the background noise on the otherwise silent floor. Sofia had read the old document's passage again and again. Her fingers had begun to tremble ever since she had returned to the start of the page for the third time. She swallowed hard, praying for the information to show up. Butler had only come along because she had told him she'd knew how to stop Lucifer and find Artemis. They had broken into the Vatican, for heaven's sake. She had to find something. Anything.

Focus, _stupida_ , she ordered herself. You have a freaking doctorate, you freed Lucifer once, you can put him back. That or face the two behemoths, admitting that you are an utter failure. Think about this logically, she thought. How did they get him into the ring in the first place? It would have to be some kind of magic. If God had put Lucifer in the ring, why put hide it in the Basilica? Why not destroy it or put it somewhere, where no one would ever be able to find it again? If God was omnipotent – Sofia pushed down the mad laugh that threatened to break free – then the ritual had to be done by humans. Humans, who wrote the whole thing down to warn people like her _not_ to free him. Or, she hoped, how to capture him, after a stupid little girl managed to break his bonds.

"But where would you put that information?" she murmured under her breath, staring into the distance. There had never been a thorough examination of the text. But someone must have catalogued them at some point, dating them, scanning the contents and bundling similar texts. So even if this document didn't hold any useful information, maybe someone had indexed an accompanying document closeby.

Sofia's fingers wandered over the cracked paper. The material, hemp she assumed was rigid, not very flexible. It would have only been used for a short time before switching to other materials, which would limit her search. She got up from the floor, her gaze wandering to the next file on the shelf. Out of reach and no Butler around to get it down. Even so, she didn't want to interrupt the two. They had to work through a lot of family issues.

She rose to her tiptoes, pushing the bottom of the magazine file with the torch towards her. If she managed to get it far enough out of the shelf, then gravity would do the rest for her and she could catch it. Sofia grinned as it tipped over. Just not into her hand but on her head before falling to the floor with a loud thud.

"I'm okay," she half shouted to the men at the other end of the hall, imagining them rolling their eyes at each other.

Rubbing her head, she opened the folder. Taking a double-take, she frowned. They weren't the documents she had been looking for, nor from the same era. It was a more recent murder that happened in Vatican City. Pictures, autopsies and profiles. Completely displaced among the Hebrew and Aramaic scripts.

"If you are next to my Devil text...," she murmured and reached for the file on the right side of the Aramaic text, holding on to one of the shelf boards for support.

"Just ask for help," the Major said gruffly behind her, making her almost lose her balance. She heard the ripping of a certain guard's uniform before she saw Butler's hand reaching for the file and pulling it out. She took it from his hands and leafing through its contents.

This one was from a similar time as the Devil text. Maybe 5th century, different paper, though. Also, different subject. She put the documents back into the magazine file and pointed to the next two on each side.

"Show me those, please," she told Butler when he had pulled the torn jacket from his shoulders and slipped back into his own that she had placed on the shelf board. She didn't blame him. There was no way, he could pull off the disguise of a security guard with the jacket hanging off him in rags.

Both parchments in the file were Hebrew scripts, one old prayer from a community around Israel, the other was an annual report from the court of Solomon. Sofia handed them both back. She scratched her palm, painfully aware that both men were watching her. Expecting her to deliver.

She turned to the Vatican murder file, she had left on the ground. Picking it up, she checked the label. _Cal 5 Tri_ , following _Cal 4 Tri_ , followed by _Cal 6 Tri_. It was the right file with the wrong content. No indication, where it belonged, though. She skimmed through the autopsies, checking the dates. _1998_.

"Someone switched the files," she said, hoping that she sounded more confident than she felt. She took the murder files as well as the old Aramaic text before handing Butler the empty magazine files.

"Did someone expect us to look for them?" the Major asked, scanning the floor for attackers.

"I think, someone wanted to hide _this_ one." Sofia held the murder file up and stepped out of the aisle.

"Why switch it and not destroy it?" Butler asked.

"The old Prefect might have mixed them up or expected aliens to steal them and tried to hide them. He… went a bit cuckoo in the end," Sofia confessed quietly, returning her attention to the autopsies in the murder file. When she showed no indications of moving, the Major became impatient.

"Well, where to?"

Sofia gritted her teeth. "I'm thinking."

"Hurry up then. We don't have time to wander the corridors all night."

"I am aware of that," Sofia snapped. "But that's exactly what's going to happen if I get it wrong."

Not waiting for the Major's reaction, she tapped a name on the autopsy report. "It's probably not in the restricted area, but it is still a murder investigation. It won't be on Level 1 with the rest of the Administration files, but… a level lower with all the documents that need to be approved by two officials from the Vatican. Hopefully."

Sofia pointed down the corridor. Leaving the restricted area, they descended another level down and stopped in front of a heavy door, this one secured by a simple lock. Butler pulled the guard's keychain from his jacket, trying several keys until the lock clicked open. Taking a deep breath, Sofia stepped into the vault, ignoring her shaky knees.

"Why are the ceilings so low here?" Butler asked as he and the Major ducked their heads to not scrape their scalps on the stone ceiling.

Sofia threw him a quick look over her shoulder, before returning her attention to the cryptic tables on the shelves.

"These vaults are part of the ancient necropolis that the Vatican was built on. This place was used for storage until the Archive ran out of space. That's when they started putting shelves in here too."

Butler lifted an eyebrow. "A cemetery?"

Sofia nodded, finally stopping in front of a shelf. Butler had no idea how she managed to keep track of the whole place with only the abbreviated tables on the shelves for orientation. There didn't seem to be an apparent system apart from being somehow separated from different ages or subjects. This one simple said _Mon-Nud._

Shining the light along the shelf boards, he watched her work away. She seemed completely immersed in the labels, at times tapping one file only to jump to a different row, murmuring under her breath. He wondered if she was aware of it.

She began pulling out files, returning them almost immediately.

"What are you looking for?" Butler eventually asked.

"The Aramaic texts were organized by language and then by age, but the documents I have found belong to another filing system. All the files in here are associated with one specific Monsignor," she explained with a sigh, without stopping in her search.

"Monsignor Mulcahy led the murder investigations and most of his files _are_ indexed in here. But they are labelled inconsistently and without the inventory, it's simply a guessing game," she said, pulling out another file with a bit more force than was necessary.

"There should have been a reformation for the Archive at some point, but that's a bit of a touchy subject for the Catholic Church."

Butler's lips curled into a small grin, which Sofia missed as she went through an inquiry by Monsignor Mulcahy. Another magazine file was filled with documents from an investigation in 1997. Finally, she opened a folder which had no modern documents in it.

Sofia let out a shaky breath, her knees almost giving out, lifting the three old parchments into the light. She turned the pages over, her eyes jumping from line to line. It was the same author as her devil's text, but they weren't talking about the same subject. Or were they?

"This one might be about the binding. It's about–," she stopped in mid-sentence as she held the script against the torchlight.

"Do you see this?" she asked, looking up. The Major squinted at the document, not seeing anything special whatsoever.

"Some of the letters are darker than the others."

She pointed them out. The Major shrugged.

"Could be due to age."

"They would have faded evenly. Also, you can't see it if you don't hold the torch directly in front of it." She took the document out of the light beam and the colour of the letters was uniform again.

"What's the message?" Butler asked.

Sofia held the document up again, reading the single letters. It was all gibberish. She held every parchment into the light. They all had single highlighted letters, but none formed a coherent sentence.

She sighed, shaking her head and putting the paper on top of the pile. The Major might have been right and it simply was faded ink. About to admit defeat, an idea struck her. Lifting the pile of paper against the torch. All the highlighted letters still appeared in a jumble on top of each other. She began exchanging the order, pushing the top paper to the bottom and moving the middle piece around until the letters shifted and she was able to read the message.

Her eyes went wide.

"The text is talking about a blood ritual," she murmured, moving her finger along the lines. "That ring was somehow _charged_. That's not the correct translation, but it is something similar," Sofia continued, translating the text as she went along.

"Does it have to be the same ring?" the Major asked with his arms crossed in front of him. Sofia went back and forth, mumbling the Aramaic words under her breath.

"I don't think so," she finally said. "However, there are some prayers. No, it's like engraved spells _,_ keeping his soul and body inside the object. I guess anything will do if we can put the spells on it," she finished, her head swimming from switching between the languages.

"What kind of spells?"

It must have been the first time, the Major ever asked her that many questions about magic, but somehow his interest seemed to have an ulterior motive. Sofia gave him a curious look, before checking the other pile of documents, she had found ten years ago and tried to hold each of them against the light. Only one document had a hidden message to reveal.

"It's a _katadesmoi._ An ancient curse. Pretty graphic, too. 'Soul will be tortured in the pit of eternal pain'. But I have no idea if it needs to be written on an object to work."

The Major reached into his jacket and pulled out a small box, offering it to Sofia.

"What about this one?" he asked.

Sofia lifted her gaze from the documents, squinting into the darkness until she could make out the outlines of the object. Handing the Major the pile of papers, she carefully took the box from his hand. Its smooth surface was cold to the touch as she brushed her finger over the inscribed letters.

_...and he shall suffer eternally... torment begin at every day... soul devoured again and again... no rest for the one, I, Lucifer Morningstar, are naming on this tablet..._

She stared up at the Major, clearing her throat uncomfortably. "Lucifer gave you this?"

The Major nodded.

"What is it?" Butler asked Sofia, who held the box firmly in her hands as if it would start floating away otherwise.

"The box is inscribed with a curse. It has your name on it," she told the Major, who wasn't surprised.

Butler frowned. "What's the point of cursing you? He could kill you, couldn't he?"

He was right, why go to such lengths if Lucifer could strike him down? Unless…

"What if he can't?" she asked, her excitement growing. "Lucifer wouldn't bother plotting such a curse to get rid of you… or destroy the temple to kill _us_."

Realization struck her as soon as the words had left her mouth. "He tried to stab me with the sword, but it didn't work. So, there must be something that keeps him from attacking us."

But something that hadn't stopped him from manipulating Artemis or kidnapping him. Butler rubbed his neck. There wasn't anything that connected the Major and Sofia. He was dead, over 7 ft tall and the only thing he ever questioned was the security protocols of any given place. Sofia was the complete opposite. They both knew Lucifer personally, but that was it.

Butler regarded the small blue stone hanging from his uncle's neck.

"The only thing you two have in common is that stone," he said, nodding to it. Sofia followed his gaze.

"He did say it would keep us safe from any angelic or demonic attack. But I can't imagine Lucifer giving it away if it had some special powers that could protect us from him. That wouldn't be very clever," she thought aloud.

If the Major knew one thing about Lucifer then that he didn't make decisions based on logic but his current mood. He was as changeable as the weather in April.

"Lucifer doesn't strike me as someone who plans very far ahead," he said with a huff.

Butler thought the same. The angel was full of himself. The reason he was cast out of Heaven in the first place if Butler remembered correctly.

"He might come back for it," Butler said. The Major made an affirmative sound, looking at the box in Sofia's hand.

"How does this thing work?"

"As soon as you open the box, you'll be sucked in and sealed away for... forever." She left out the eternal torture and pain, he could imagine it regardless.

"Then it's like the ring for Lucifer?" Butler asked, making her pause. Would Lucifer try to trick the Major into the same prison, he had been cast to, thousands of years ago? Yes, he would. Sofia glared at his engraved name on the box.

"Hang on," she said, all of a sudden. "Does anyone have a pocket knife?"

Butler bent down and pulled a throwing knife from his boot, holding it out to her. Sofia stared at the blade, before giving Butler a bewildered look. What else had he stuffed down his pants? He gave her a wry look as if reading her mind.

Abruptly turning to the Major, she gave him the box. "Hold it like this, please?"

Butler directed the torchlight to the small wooden box as she began to scratch parts of the inscriptions away. The Major raised his eyebrows, watching her work away.

"How is this going to help?"

"The last part says 'I, Lucifer Morningstar, are cursing this man', followed by your name. I should be able to scratch out your name, leaving his."

Butler understood immediately. "Would this turn the curse around?"

She shrugged. "In theory. Either way, the curse will probably not work on _you_ anymore _._ There, done."

The Major took the box back. He suspected that his subconscious tricked him, but somehow, the box seemed lighter and… less menacing. He pushed it back in his jacket and gave her a nod. The closest thing to praise, he had ever given her.

"Now what?"

"We need a distraction. Something to get Lucifer's attention."

Grabbing the watch around her neck, Sofia lifted it to her face, checking the time. It was past midnight. They would never manage to get to Lucifer before sunrise and without the Major, their chances for success were extremely slim.

She bit her lip. They had no way of getting to Lucifer. He was like a ghost, appearing whenever he wished to. The Major paced along the corridor, coming to the same conclusion.

"How did he know you were in the hotel that night?" Butler suddenly asked.

"I texted the Major that I had a lead on the angels."

The Major stopped in his tracks. "No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did. I remember it because that was _before_ the angel stabbed me," she said pointedly.

"You did _not_ text me," he insisted, pulled out his phone and handed it to her. Giving him a doubtful look, she eventually flicked through his messages. All from her. She clicked on the last message, glancing up triumphantly before she scanned it once more.

"I didn't write this one," she said with a tight voice. Butler stepped behind her and read it over her shoulder.

"Check the number."

"It's not mine," she whispered, lowering the phone to see a muscle twitch in the Major's jaw as the full meaning of it sank in. Lucifer had played them. Whichever message they had been writing, the angel had intercepted them. He curled his hands into fists, looking as if he was about to punch a hole into the wall.

"That's perfect!" Sofia exclaimed. And after the Major kept giving her an incredulous look, she elaborated, "This is our connection to him. We can pretend that you are texting me and get him to meet us anywhere. We can, how do you call it… regroup and think of a strategy."

"Do it," Butler said. "Tell him to meet you…"

"Villa Borghese? It has a huge park. It's about half an hour away from here," Sofia said, giving both men a questioning look.

"Are there enough places to take cover?" the Major asked.

"Plenty."

Butler and the Major exchanged glances and Sofia couldn't shake the feeling that they were having a conversation before her very eyes without saying a single word.

"Do it," Butler repeated and Sofia began typing the message.

_Meet fountain of seahorses Villa Borghese. Have found what you were looking for._

Sofia turned the phone for the men to read the message, sending it, once they were both happy with it. She gave it back to the Major, before pulling her necklace with the blue stone from her neck. She held it out to him as well.

"As a precaution," she explained. "Lucifer will try to get yours and if he succeeds, we'll be on our own."

The Major nodded after a moment and let the necklace drop into his pocket. Sofia's shoulders dropped in relief, a half confident smile pulling at her lips.

"Now, let's kick some ass."

Both Butlers gave her the same dark look that would have frightened the whole Army of Hell off. If she had ever questioned their relation, this would have been the moment she would have been sure they belonged to the same family.

"What?" she asked, busily sorting the documents in her hand. "Isn't this the time, where we do some macho talk? Rambo style?"

The Major's voice rumbled low in his throat. "Move."

* * *

 **A/N** : And we are done for this week. I hope you enjoyed this week's detective episode in the Vatican! Was it too much? This chapter was supposed to be half as long, but somehow, the guys kept stumbling over one roadblock after another. This one time, I was with the Major and got really frustrated when they just wouldn't get on with it!

Anyway, will they manage to trick Lucifer? And… what happened to Holly and Trouble? Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about them, they will get their big moment next time. I am super excited as always!

Also, if anyone is interested in some real-life murder mystery (and the inspiration for the files, Sofia found), search for "Murdered Swiss Guard in the Vatican". I am not saying that anything was hushed up, but it is a very curious case indeed. Please use caution if you are checking it out as the topics might be triggering for some.

I hope to see you all next week. Until then, take care!


	23. Chapter 22

**Author's Note:** Here we go again, my beautiful readers, the beginning of the end. Let's not make this harder than it is. Before we start, however, warnings for graphic scenes of violence. Some people will get hurt, some… will die. Enjoy!

A big thanks to everyone who left kudos and/or comments. I love to engage with you all and it’s so great to read your reactions to the chapters!

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination and the characters, I have created. Although _owning_ is debatable and would probably earn me a beating from Lucifer and a lecture by Sofia.

* * *

**Chapter 22**

The Major and Butler raced up the stairs. Sofia tried to keep up. She suspected that they weren't even going full speed, whereas she was about to pass out if she couldn't take a break anytime soon.

"Guards?" the Major asked Butler when they stopped on the ground floor, waiting for Sofia.

"One in the control room. One on the street. Might still be out, wouldn't risk it, though."

The Major nodded, turning to Sofia, who tried hard not to wheeze.

"Any other exits?"

She bobbed her head up and down, pointing down the corridor towards a hall filled with even more books and records. "Main entrance," she managed after a moment, following both Butlers as they entered the grand reading room.

Sofia looked up at the painted ceiling and the priceless tomes in the bookshelves. It was a shame that they were so hard to make out in the twilight. She had only set foot into this reading room a couple of times because it wasn't really a reading room. It was merely used to dazzle the public and to receive luminaries. All the pictures that the Vatican published of the Archives were this one room, showing off the oldest and most valuable books the Vatican owned.

She turned to the men, about to tell them to appreciate this unique opportunity. Of course, neither Butler nor the Major were very much interested in the room. While clouds pushed in front of the moon, plunging them into almost blinding darkness, Butler sniffed the air like a giant wolf.

Even the Major shifted his weight, looking as if he wanted to get on all fours, waylaying his prey. Sofia frowned. "What are you doing?"

Before the Major could tell her to keep quiet, a soft bell chimed, notifying a phone owner of an incoming message.

Someone chuckled.

"Well, well, well. Look, what we got here. A message from the Major."

A reading lamp came to life, casting a white light at Lucifer, sitting on one of the mahogany tables, Artemis standing close-by, ready to jump in front of his new Lord if necessary.

Sofia's mouth dropped open. "How–?"

"Many years ago a stupid girl was very eager to show me just how clever she was, telling me how she had found some highly interesting documents in the Archive," he said indulgently. "Documents that described how some mere mortals managed to bind me."

Sofia paled, pressing the old parchments to her chest.

"Sweet little Sofia, who just had to stick her nose into things that were none of her business."

"S-so what," Sofia stuttered, "if you destroy these? I am sure there are other means to get rid of you."

The Major almost groaned. "Sofia," he hissed. "Don't give him any ideas."

Lucifer snorted. "Yes, listen to your big scary protector. Blown to smithereens, wandering Hell for all eternity. The other oaf following like a lost puppy. You pathetic lot want to stop me? You wouldn't even have come so far without me."

The flapping of wings made Sofia turn around to two angels, standing in the doorway. Using her inattention, Lucifer snapped his fingers. The files in her hand immediately went up in flames. Sofia shrieked and let go of the parchments, which dropped to the floor in small, charred flakes.

The Major reached for his pistol, aiming it at Lucifer. Butler kept an eye on the two angels behind them. Seeing the two men drawing their pistols, Sofia grabbed her Glock, too, holding it with both her hands. She pointed it to the ground, unsure of whether the angels or Lucifer posed a bigger threat.

Nobody moved, the silence was nearly tangible. Each party waited for the other one to make the next move. The Major and Butler stood ready to attack. Sofia didn't have the yearlong experience of the Butler family; she had no idea about tactics or attack theory. All she had was the wish not to die in this place. She had shot a monster before, she could do it again. Shooting humanoid angels, however, was different than pointing a gun into the darkness at monsters. Taking a shaky breath, she turned to the closest angel at the door, aimed and shot him in the knee. He went down with a scream. All hell broke loose.

The other angel, a woman with long blonde hair and blue feathered wings, unsheathed a dagger and hurled herself at Butler. She stabbed at his face. He dodged. Not fast enough, he realized when he felt the blade graze his face. Something made his cheek itch. I am bleeding, he thought soberly and pushed Sofia out of the way. He registered her yelp as she went down. She'd live. Better a scraped knee than a cut throat.

The angel continued her vigorous attack. She kept the dagger close to her body, lashing out in quick stabs. Behind him, two windows shattered but he kept his attention on his attacker. His uncle would deal with it. He had to keep his eyes on the angel, who kept driving him further and further back. She was fast but she had to stab upwards to reach his face, something he could use to his advantage. He sidestepped her next jab to his throat, jumped forward and punched her in the throat. The angel panted, swinging her arm wildly at his face. This was the dangerous time as Butler knew. If he had let down his guard at this moment he would have died. Instead, he gripped her wrist and twisted her arm, stabbing her in the chest and watching the life fade from her eyes.

While Butler dealt with the angel, the Major had indeed turned his attention to the shattering of glass. Two more angels dove into the Archive and towards the three humans. Aiming at the intruders, the Major fired his pistol twice. The first shot hit one of them straight in the head. She dropped to the ground like a stone. The other hit the angel with heather-coloured wings in the shoulder. Grunting in pain, the angel rushed forward and crashed into the Major, bringing him down.

Sofia, sprawled on the floor, whipped her head towards the small wooden object that fell out of the Major's jacket. Scrabbling to her feet, Sofia dove for the box, running past the two Butlers, stopping in front of Lucifer, scowling at him. He watched her with mild interest, unperturbed by her antics of lifting the wooden box's lid.

Nothing happened.

Sofia's eyes widened, staring at the open and empty box. Lucifer rubbed his face, laughing, but not quite understanding what was going on.

"You think you can outsmart me? The Devil? Give me that," he demanded and reached his hand out for the box. Clutching the box in her hands, Sofia jumped back.

The angel that had attacked the Major stabbed at his wrist with his dagger. The knife, however, wouldn't penetrate the skin. Dropping his weapon, the angel grabbed the necklace around the Major's neck. The ex-bodyguard fought back, hitting all the vital points of his attacker's body. The angel grunted and ripped the blue stone off. Rolling away, the angel jumped back and into the air, returning to Lucifer.

"That should get rid of one of you," Lucifer said with a grin, waiting for the Major to vanish. It didn't happen. Lucifer's grin faltered as he realized that something wasn't going according to plan. The Major picked up the dagger that the angel had dropped carelessly and got back to his feet, his steely eyes focusing on his next target.

Lucifer backed away, distracted long enough that Sofia could grip Artemis' hand and pull him away.

"I demand you to stop," Lucifer hollered.

The Major didn't comply. Neither did he wait for the gaunt man to understand what was going on. He drew his fist back and punched Lucifer on the nose. Something crunched on impact and knocked the angel off his feet. Lucifer scrambled back, holding his face in shock. Why wasn't the man doing his will? The stone had been brought back to him!

"Why are you not gone, you filthy dog?" he hissed through clenched teeth before noticing Sofia dragging Artemis back.

"Get me that box," Lucifer shouted, getting back on his feet, swinging the sword wildly at the Major. Yet, instead of flinching away, he regarded the angel like an insect under the microscope. Lucifer held his hand out. Fire began licking at his hand and morphed into a blazing fireball. He hurled it at the Major. The giant dodged it and the fiery ball hit a bookshelf in the back, alighting the old tomes within seconds.

Sofia gasped, watching the fire jump from one bookshelf to the next and devouring ancient texts. Artemis turned to her and she let go of his hand, touching him by the shoulder.

"Are you okay?" she asked but there was no recognition on his face. Just blankness. Then his hand reached for the box. Sofia held it out of reach, which didn't stop the boy. He was driven by Lucifer's command. She tried to push him away, without him falling back and cracking open his head. He was after all just a puny 13-year old. Artemis wouldn't be deterred, though, he kept coming back for more.

"Artemis, get a grip. I don't want to hurt you," she pleaded, whipping her head towards the angel above them. He had flown in moments ago, flying in a circle and undecided if he wanted to protect his Lord or cut her throat.

Butler took the decision from him and shot him in one of his wings, getting him out of the air. The angel landed in front of him. Groaning, he tried to get up. Butler kicked him in the head. The angel collapsed back. Aiming his pistol at Lucifer, Butler rounded the two men to get to his young charge. He threw a glance at Sofia, seeing Artemis reaching for the pistol at her shoulder. Before he managed to shout at her to pay attention, the Irish boy had already pulled the gun out. Sofia stumbled back, her hand flying to the now empty holster.

Lucifer smiled triumphantly, holding the Major at a distance.

"I don't know what kind of magic this is, but it's a small drawback. You are only extending your suffering."

His face turned into a grotesque picture of maliciousness. "Shoot her," he ordered Artemis. The boy lifted the pistol, aimed and pulled the trigger, a shot thundering through the air.

Sofia doubled over and dropped to the floor.

Butler roared, slamming into Artemis. He dragged him to the floor and wrenched the pistol from his hand. Artemis didn't fight back. He didn't even seem to realize what was happening around him. The bodyguard grabbed Artemis' hand and pulled the golden signet ring from his finger, throwing it away. That got a reaction from the boy. He blinked, his mind registering the pain in his body.

Butler hesitated. "Artemis? Are you _you?"_

Artemis gave his bodyguard a dirty look. "Yes, Butler, I am me and I am in pain. Something you are supposed to prevent from happening."

Butler patted his charge on the shoulder. He was back.

"Stay low, Artemis. Things are about to get dicey."

He didn't wait for the boy to answer and ran to where the professor had dropped to the floor. She had managed to crawl under one of the tables. He had to give it to her, she had internalized the _take cover_ bit. Sofia jumped when he ducked under the table to check on her. She looked pale, but not as badly hurt as the first time they met.

"You are lucky that Artemis is such a bad shot," he said, pushing her hand away to examine her arm. Sofia bit her lip and dropped her bloodied hand.

"It didn't work. Why didn't it work," she murmured under her breath.

The bullet had gone straight through. Butler was about to tell her as much when he noticed a light from the corner of his eyes. So did Sofia. The box had started to glow. No, that wasn't quite true. One letter of the curse had. Sofia gasped as she realized that it had come into contact with her blood.

"The ritual. I am such an idiot. It said they did a _blood_ ritual and I completely missed it. It will not work without any blood."

She rubbed her hand over the Aramaic letters, spreading her blood over them. They started to glow. Clenching her jaw, she rubbed her hand over her bloody arm and then over the wooden box once more. The glowing became stronger.

"If this backfires–," she didn't finish the sentence. Butler pulled out his Sig Sauer. Having two pistols felt strangely comforting. He gave her a nod before they got up from under the table.

* * *

Holly and Trouble had rounded the small enclosed monument once, without finding the entrance. Assuming that there was an opening mechanism, they examined the chiselled relief in more detail. War scenes with angels, swooping down from the skies in mid-air, sword raised, human men and women hiding in fear.

Holly pushed some of the figurines, checking if they moved. Trouble followed suit. He rounded a corner and noticed something odd.

"Hols, check this out," he called out and pointed to a relief, chiselled into the stone. Because of its bent at the corner, however, they had overlooked it. It was a hand. Much bigger than theirs. Possibly of an angel. The fingertips had tiny spikes on them.

Trouble pushed the palm, but it wouldn't move. He pushed harder. Still nothing. He cleared his throat, shooting Holly a look. Clenching his teeth, he pushed as hard as he could.

Holly rolled her eyes and nodded towards the spikes. "I think, it won't open without some sort of 'sacrifice'".

Trouble jerked his hand back, disgusted. "Sacrifice as in elf sacrifice? No way."

The possibility of dying here did not sit well with her either. She suspected that the opening mechanism would be activated with the blood from whoever placed their hand on the relief. If the spikes were poisoned their magic would heal them. In theory.

"Let's divide them. I'll take half, you take the other half," she suggested.

Trouble shook his head. "Holly, I am not going to die in some crazy angel sacrifice."

She pushed him aside. "Fine, I'll do it myself then. And if _I_ die, you'll have to live with the remorse for the rest of your life."

Spending time with Artemis did rub off on her, she thought with a shudder.

"Whoa, okay wait." He held her back by the elbow. "Fine, you win. But if we die, it'll be on you!"

Holly answered with a snort to the empty threat and stepped onto the base to reach up to the hand. Trouble sighed and followed her, pushing his left three fingers on the spikes of the middle, ring and little finger of the stone hand. Holly took the thumb and index finger.

The spikes pricked their fingers, blood oozing into the cracks of the stone, the outline of an opening appearing. Stone scraped against stone as the plate slid aside to reveal the inside of the tomb.

Their magic sealed the wounds immediately, no apparent poison rushing through their veins. Holly gave Trouble a thumbs up and stepped inside. The chamber wasn't big, but the walls were filled with gemstones. Some of them were alight in bright colours, others dimly lit. Yet some of the gem's colours were dull.

"What is this place?"

Holly stepped closer and examined the pulsating light in one of the gems. Trouble grabbed the closest stone, a dull one, carefully loosening it from its mounting with his knife. He held it into the light of his helmet. Something was inside of these stones.

"See this? It looks like amber," he pointed to the intertwined lines inside. "Foaly, you seeing this?"

Foaly whinnied, his fingers flying over the keyboard and combing thousands of human and fairy search engines in hopes of getting a match. In the meantime, Holly had pulled another gem out. This one was a bright green emerald and the lines inside the gem were much more pronounced. Foaly fed it through the database and got a hit.

"I found something. Those squiggly lines are sigils. They have been used by some secret societies, especially religious. Mostly back in the 16th century, but believe it or not, I have found a website for some modern witches' supply shop, where you can and I quote, 'send your guardian angel a private message'," Foaly neighed.

"What do they _actually_ say?" Trouble asked, impatiently.

"The one that Holly is holding? That one is the sigil for someone called 'Gavreel'. One second... it's an angel. No surprise, I guess."

Holly looked at the gems in the chamber with newfound interest. Was this some kind of directory of the angels on Earth? There must have been thousands of gems in the chamber! She took another look at the gem in her hand, when the light inside went out. Now it was dull, just like the one Trouble had in his hand. Trouble had seen it, too.

"It's their souls," Yonatan said from the opening of the tomb. Trouble whirled around, aiming his gun at him.

"I thought, I had made myself clear, man," Trouble said through gritted teeth.

Holly held her hand up. "What do you mean, _souls_?"

The demon shrugged, leaning against the stone wall. "I wasn't there, but there were rumours. About Michael's death."

Trouble wasn't impressed, opening his mouth, surely to tell him what he could do with his rumours. Holly motioned him to continue.

"The Nephilim turned against him. He was slain in an ambush. By his own people," Yonatan continued.

"And that's noteworthy because?"

"Because that shouldn't have happened. Until that point, all angels had one collective mind. Or something similar to that. I heard this from another demon. Once they cut that connection, they overthrew Michael and did what they felt like. Sounds familiar?"

Holly shook her head. She wasn't familiar with Mud Men lore. Yonatan pointed at the gems. "Those stones are what kept them connected. It's their soul."

Holly looked at the gem in her hand. "The angels' souls?"

There was silence as this information sank in.

"Why would they leave their souls lying around?" Trouble asked, still unconvinced.

"They didn't. There are all those creatures, guarding them. They are surrounding this place as we speak." Yonatan smiled, his red eyes twinkling with joy. He might have as well told them that the weather today would be great.

The elves gaped at him. "And when were you going to tell us that?"

"I offered you my help. You refused."

Holly took a breath. "You can stop them?"

Yonatan nodded, still smiling. "Of course. I am a demon, I live to create chaos." He was about to turn around when Holly stopped him.

"Wait! Can we use these gems to stop the angels?"

"Destroy them," he said, the mirth on his face gone. He left, leaving Trouble and Holly with the gems.

"Do you trust him?"

Holly shook her head. "No, but I do believe his hatred of the Nephilim."

"We are killing the angels with this, aren't we?"

"Yes, but we also kindly asked them not to kill _us_ , so joke's on them." Holly shrugged.

The sound of yelping creatures reached their ears. Worry swept over Trouble's face before he regained his composure.

"If he goes bonkers, I'll make you responsible. Personally."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be such a baby, Trubs. Let's get going."

The noise outside the tomb continued, as Trouble went to one of the gems, embedded in the wall. This time it glowed purple. He didn't take the time to check the lines inside, he couldn't read them, anyway. He struck the gem with the tip of his knife. The surface cracked under the force and the light inside the gem went out. The elf wondered if they were about to make a big mistake, but moved to the next gem regardless and hacked away. Holly unsheathed her knife and walked to another wall, doing the same.

They continued for a while, the only sound the crushing gems, crumbling under the knives and the sound of dying creatures outside. Trouble rolled his shoulder once he reached the end of his row. He watched Holly for a moment, who kept working without pause. Feeling his gaze, she stopped and threw him a questioning look. Trouble shook his head and continued to smash the gems into shards.

* * *

Lucifer clenched Michael's sword in his hand, keeping it between himself and the Major. He had tried to stab him with it but the blade never hit its mark. The human was still protected from the divine angels.

"How?!"

The Major grinned, aware that it would make the angel even angrier. Lucifer attacked again, but as so many times before it was useless. If the man was still immune to his attacks or the ones of the other angels, then it meant that he was still in possession of an Urim stone. But he only ever gave one to the Major and... his eyes went wide when he finally understood.

"Kill them all!" he roared.

Butler registered at least a dozen angels swooping down at an incredible speed. So, this was how they would go, huh? Killed by an army of winged creatures that were supposed to be fat and tiny and sit on clouds, singing hymns. An arrow narrowly missed his head and drove into the wooden floor. The bodyguard shot his Sig Sauer at the bow angel, while the Glock took out the flying attacker that was closest to them. Both went down.

The gunshots thundered next to Sofia's ears. She flinched, her heartbeat in her throat. Butler was standing behind her. It did little to calm her down, the attacking angels were still a terrifying sight. She looked at the glowing Aramaic letters on the box in her hands and began to read the curse, opening the wooden box.

Lucifer felt the tug like a breeze in spring. They were trying to bind him. Again! He clenched his fist, turning to Sofia. Someone would pay for this, he thought before his head flew back for the second time that day and he felt a splitting pain in his knee, making him double over. He couldn't remember the last time that anybody had lambasted him that bad.

The Major wrenched the sword from Lucifer's hand. He grabbed the angel's head and drove his knee into his head. It went against his preferred attack strategy, but this was personal. It deserved a personal touch.

Lucifer groaned as more and more of his essence was sucked from his body and into his new prison. He was fading away. Glaring at the Major, he howled curses at him. This couldn't be it. He couldn't leave this world like this! Scrambling back on his feet, he threw himself at the Major. His ghost-like fist went through the ex-bodyguard. Whirling around, the last thing he saw was the disdainful glare of the Major. Sofia finished the curse. The angel roared. The box slammed shut. The Devil was gone.

The horde of angels didn't seem to care or to notice. They kept coming. Butler kept shooting. Every bullet hit one attacker. Angels slammed into angels, crashing to the floor. The Archive was filled with the sounds of shouts, gunshots and the crackling fire in the back. Until suddenly, there was only the click of empty magazines. Butler had run out of bullets. He cursed. The angels didn't have that problem, they fought with bows and arrows, swords and daggers. Butler could see the hatred in their eyes. All their efforts of catching Lucifer would be for nothing if the angels got hold of the box. Pushing Sofia behind him, he dropped the pistols and brought his fists up. He wouldn't get out of here. Neither would his uncle. But Artemis and Sofia might have a chance.

"Get Artemis and run!" he growled over the noise. Sofia bolted. Butler focussed on the attackers. They were in the majority but they weren't very clever. Most of them were too eager to get their hands on him than to take him out from a distance. If he managed to stay alive for just five minutes, even somebody as unathletic as Artemis and Sofia could make it out of the Archive.

Butler gritted his teeth and prepared himself to die.

* * *

 **A/N** : I am awful, aren't I? Well, it's not quite over, sorry to disappoint. BUT you'll get the next and last chapter next week, so I hope the wait is not too bad.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter (despite everything) and I hope to see you all next Wednesday. Until then, take care!


	24. Chapter 23

**Author's Note:** This is it, my beautiful readers, the very last chapter… excuse me, while I blow my nose and pour myself some wine. Before we start, let me just say this: It's been a pleasure. I wrote this story, daydreaming of someone reading it and enjoying its premise and scenes. The reaction I have received has surpassed my wildest dreams.

Every single comment has made me grin like an idiot and has caused my husband to leave late for work at times ("Wait, I have to read you this comment I got on the last chapter! Hang on, let me read you the whole chapter first for reference…"). This journey has been terrific and your support and love have been a huge part in making it so great.

Enough with the sappiness, let's finish this. Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer** : Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination and the characters, I have created. Although _owning_ is debatable and would probably earn me a beating from Lucifer and a lecture by Sofia.

* * *

**Chapter 23**

Sitting under a table, Artemis kept staring at the crackling fire across the room. He didn't acknowledge that more and more angels came flying through the window, armed and ready to attack. Who cared about the angels, while the Vatican archive's showpiece reading room went up in flames? The reading room but more importantly the old scripts that he hadn't had the opportunity to read yet. Artemis eyed the fire extinguisher at the other end of the room. Getting on all fours, he began crawling towards it.

This wasn't what Butler had meant by staying low, Artemis knew. Surely the order was obsolete, though, seeing the archive in flames. Even Butler had to care for such treasures to be protected so they could exploit the knowledge to their advantage.

Catching his breath, Artemis got back on his feet, once he had reached the fire extinguisher and lifted it from its mounting. Gripping the tank with both hands, he heroically stepped to the closest burning bookshelf and fidgeted with the spray nozzle. The pressure from the tank almost knocked him off his feet as the white foam came shooting forward.

He had hardly managed to guide it towards the flaming inferno when Sofia pulled him back.

"We have to leave, Artemis," Sofia panted, a haunted look on her face.

"This is the Secret Archive," Artemis protested. "We have to protect these documents, Professor. You can't let this treasure burn to ashes. We are no longer in the 1930s!"

Sofia doubted there was much that could be saved. By now the fire had spread to the other reading rooms and had sealed off the way from which the Major, Butler and she had come from. The path to the main entrance was blocked by the horde of angels, who were about to put an end to the Major and Butler. Their only way out was through the windows and across the inner courtyard, a big open field. Perfect for the angels to take them out, once they finished with the Butlers. They were as good as dead but they owed it to Butler to at least try fulfilling his dying wish.

"Do you want to die here?" she shrieked, yanking the cylinder from his hands.

Sofia pushed the wooden box into Artemis' hands and rushed towards the closest window overseeing the courtyard. She felt the Irish boy behind her, surely about to contradict her. Whirling around, she froze as she came face to chest with a burly angel. Gulping, she lifted her head, looking into a scarred face. The angel snarled. Sofia screamed. Lifting the fire extinguisher, she hit him in the chest. For a second, nothing happened. Then the angel burst into a cloud of dust.

Artemis sneezed as he stepped closer.

"How did you do that?"

Sofia stared at the red cylinder in her hands.

"Maybe it's… holy?" she whispered, trying to remember if the Pope blessed fire protection devices. A bookshelf collapsed and threw up a wall of flames, making Artemis flinch away from the heat. Pulling the boy with her, Sofia smashed the biggest shards from the broken window with the possibly holy fire extinguisher, before throwing it into the soft grass outside. She climbed out, urging Artemis to hurry up.

"Where are we going?" Artemis asked, clumsily stepping out of the window and lowering himself down. He examined the green space that was dotted with benches around a small pond. During the day, this was a popular place for the Vatican's employees to relax during their breaks. Now it was just a grey, dreary place, alighted from the fire that raged inside the building.

Sofia pulled him along, forcing him to break into a jog.

"Where is Butler?" Artemis wheezed, the physical extortion making him sweat, something the young Irish heir didn't care for at all. "Shouldn't we hide somewhere? Staying low?"

Sofia switched the clunky fire extinguisher from one side of her hip to the other, unable to talk and run at the same time. She slowed down to a brisk walk.

"We have to leave through the main entrance."

Artemis observed the glowing letters on the wooden box in his hands, fading to a dull colour.

"When did you get here? The police are probably surrounding the premises as we speak," he said, black dots dancing in front of his eyes. The other end of the courtyard seemed to get further and further away.

Sofia shook her head. "Butler did something to the cameras."

Behind them, several more windows shattered. Artemis looked back and blanched at the sight of armed angels flying out.

* * *

Butler had shifted his weight, resuming a defensive stance. He blinked the sweat from his eye. The fire behind him was creeping closer, while the angels advanced from the front. Artemis and Sofia needed all the lead they could get. His diversion didn't need to be sophisticated but it had to catch the angels' attention.

He smirked. "Alright, ladies. I know you all want a piece of me. So, if you all get in line, I am sure we can sort something out."

An angel let out a growl and rushed forward, swinging his sword at Butler's head. Butler ducked, jumped forward and came up right in his face.

"Boo," he said and head-butted the attacker. The angel dropped his sword and crumbled to the ground, out cold. One down, about 30 more to go. Easy.

One angel, one of the more prudent ones, realized that this was no mortal they would be able to take out in hand-to-hand-combat. He strung his bow and let a single arrow fly. Butler dropped down, making himself as small as possible. The arrow flew over his head and landed in the fire behind him. Gripping the unconscious angel, Butler hurled him at the closest group of angels. They were knocked off their feet like pins.

More angels pulled arrows from their quivers. Butler clenched his jaw but kept grinning.

"Can we hurry this up, folks? I have a date with your mother in ten minutes."

Funny, Butler thought soberly as the arrows came flying at his face, how that one even worked on other species. There wasn't enough time to let his life pass before his eyes. He settled with the hope that Artemis and Sofia managed to get out of the archive. The woman was no fighter but she was resourceful and unless Art–

Butler never finished his train of thought, because his uncle jumped in front of him. The arrows bounced off him as if they were made of rubber.

Flourishing Michael's sword at his side, the Major snorted. "You call this fighting? Pathetic."

"Enough!"

Ananiel stepped forward. He gestured his fellow angels to lower their weapons. Turning to Butler and the Major, he inclined his head and held out a hand. "We appreciate your help, mortals, in defeating the traitor, Lucifer. I will take the sword now."

The Major lifted an eyebrow and gripped the sword hilt tighter.

"Come and get it."

"If you give us the sword we will spare your lives," Ananiel said with a scowl. "You might not care for yours but you wouldn't want the woman and the boy to die, would you?"

Butler curled his hands to fists, ready to strike as soon as his uncle gave him a sign. He didn't. Instead, he shrugged.

"Do it. See if I care."

Butler blinked. Was that part of the plan? His uncle had to see that the angels wouldn't be deterred by this.

Ananiel crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Kill them all."

Four angels broke through the windows and disappeared into the night, while the rest lunged at the Butlers. The Major brandished his sword. Steel clashed against steel. He grabbed the Nephilim by his tunic and pushed him into a throng of angels, whirling around to block another blade from splitting his skull.

Butler could only rely on his fists. He hit one angel under the jaw, who stumbled back and into the knife of one of his fellow Nephilim. Opening his mouth in surprise, he went up in smoke. Ananiel sneered at Butler, convinced that he had cast some sort of spell. Another angel turned into soap bubbles, without Butler touching him. Ananiel's face lost all colour, unable to comprehend what kind of magic had been cast.

The Major stumbled forward as his opponent dropped to the floor in a heap of leaves. He shot a glance over to his nephew. Butler gave him a short nod. Time to get going before this odd phenomenon spread. He picked up the two pistols, he had dropped earlier and followed his uncle.

"You cannot leave this fight. Raise your sword and fight like a man!" Ananiel shouted over the noise.

The Major couldn't keep himself from chuckling. "I would but that wouldn't be a fair fight."

Dropping the act, both Butlers switched back into their professional mode and raced out of the burning archive, while panic began to spread among the angels who dissolved into oblivion.

Ananiel went after them, grabbing one of the daggers that one of the angels had dropped. They wouldn't get away! He spread his wings and lifted into the air. Only to come down as a golden rain a few seconds later.

* * *

Artemis grabbed Sofia by the arm. "Where did you say, Butler was?"

Sofia threw a look over her shoulder and cursed. She increased her pace, forcing them to go faster, fully aware that it would be a futile attempt. Jerking her head up, she watched the angels glide over their heads. All four dropped in front of them, eyeing them with open glee as Sofia and Artemis stopped short, catching their breath.

Grinning, a female angel stepped forward and reached for her sword.

Sofia swallowed and held the fire extinguisher in her outstretched hands.

"I m-must warn you," she said, trying to sound confident. "I'm in the possession of a holy relic of the Catholic Church. If you d-don't back off, I will use it on you."

The angel paused, giving her a once-over. And burst out laughing. The three other angels joined in.

"Do your worst, mortal," the angel guffawed, flicking back her long black hair.

Sofia took a tentative step forward and swung the cylinder at the angel's face. It connected with a clank. Stumbling back, Sofia observed several emotions wash over the angel's face but no explosion of any sort took place. The female Nephilim pulled out her sword.

Sofia's knees began to shake. Had she made a mistake? What was different than before?

"M-maybe it needs some–," she began when one of the male angels shattered like a glass vase. His companions gaped at the heap of shards.

Artemis reacted immediately. "Well done, Professor. Your strategy is impeccable. Pretending to target their leader but going for the middleman. Genius. She has warned you, gentlemen… and lady. Step aside and you will not end like your pitiful friend."

The female angel glared at Sofia. Charging forward, she plunged down her dagger. A splash of water hit Sofia in the face. Gasping, she wiped away the water and whipped her head around. The Nephilim had disappeared. The remaining two angels turned on their heels, spread their wings and took off into the night sky.

They exploded like fireworks on New Year's Eve, illuminating the sky in purple and blue. Artemis tilted his head back, watching until the spectacle had faded. He turned to Sofia.

"I don't think, your fire extinguisher is holy."

Sofia let out an exhausted sigh, letting the comment pass.

"Let's get out of here," she said when she noticed movement from the other side. Her eyes widened at the sight of Butler and the Major, racing towards them.

"They are alive," she breathed. Artemis followed her gaze and lifted an eyebrow.

"Of course, they are Butlers after all."

Sofia had no idea what he meant by that, nor why her throat tightened up when the two men slowed to a halt before them. She inspected her shoes, pretending to scratch her forehead with a shaky hand. The Major took one look at her, rolled his eyes and took the fire extinguisher from her.

"You got yourself a weapon. Good. Now, stop bawling."

"I'm n-not–," Sofia choked, clearing her throat and tried again. "I'm not… Oh, shut up!"

Butler grinned and placed a hand on Artemis' shoulder, pushing him forward. They had survived the angel attack, now they had to get out of the Vatican without getting caught. The Major jerked his chin, motioning Sofia to run. Mobilizing the last ounce of energy from her shaky legs, Sofia followed along as the two bodyguards kept forcing them to run at a breakneck speed.

"What is happening?" Artemis asked once they had reached the other side of the courtyard as the wind carried the sound of fading screams closer.

Ignoring the question, the Major turned to Butler. "The cameras are all disabled?"

"There is a loop on all channels," Butler said. "Anyone getting the alarm will think it's a glitch."

Which, in turn, meant that the fire brigade would reach either late or too late. Artemis let out a low moan. It was too much to bear.

Satisfied, the Major smashed one of the windows with the fire extinguisher. The glass shattered. The two bodyguards climbed into the building, half-dragging half-hoisting Sofia and Artemis in.

"Which way?" the Major asked Sofia. She paused. Was this the West or the East Wing?

"Uh, straight ahead, then the first one right and down the stairs."

As Butler had predicted, there were no firefighters, no police officers, no nothing. Everything remained quiet as the four sneaked out of the main door and into the shadows. Keeping an eye out for any Swiss Guards, Butler and the Major led the way out of the Vatican long before the first police sirens got louder in the distance.

The Butlers allowed Sofia and Artemis a break when they had brought enough space between themselves and the burning _Vatican Secret Archive._ Artemis gazed at the orange glow over Rome's rooftops, tears threatening to spill over. He had tried so hard to get into the archive and the one time he succeeded the place burnt down. All the documents were forever lost to him. It wasn't fair.

Butler, on the other hand, couldn't believe they had got off that cheaply. He didn't even get shot, which was most unusual.

The Major gripped Butler's shoulder. "You did well, _moy malchik."_

The corner of Butler's lips quirked up, the only sign that somehow he didn't mind the title so much anymore.

"We should leave," Artemis said with a husky voice. It took him a few more seconds before he cleared his throat and reverted to his usual self.

"Seeing as you are the only person on this planet who has held some of the documents in her hands, are you planning on sharing your information with anyone, Professor?"

Sofia tried to suppress a grin, despite the situation. "What a shame. You will never get to read all those very important, very old and very precious documents. To have to rely on such _unreliable_ resources. Oh, the horror!"

Artemis scowled. " _Are_ you going to share your knowledge?"

"Try asking me very, very nicely."

* * *

Trouble cracked the last gem. Shaking his burning arm, he turned to Holly, who rolled her shoulders and bit her lip. "Do you think it worked?"

Trouble shrugged and stepped out of the chamber. He swallowed at the sight of Yonatan, who threw one last creature on a heap. The demon was drenched in blood but the friendly smile on his face hadn't wavered.

"How did it go?"

As if on cue, their helmet receivers crackled to life with a hiss before they heard Foaly and Root bickering again.

"Yes, Foaly. Now connect me for Frond's sake. Holly, Trouble! Do you hear me?" Root shouted into the helm mics.

"Positive, Commander," Trouble answered. "How is your status?"

"My sta–," the commander began but Foaly interrupted him.

"You did it! Stampa blew himself up, but we managed to evacuate most of the hospital."

He was cut short once again by the commander, who shoved him out of his swivel chair by the sounds of it. Holly furrowed her brows at Trouble's smirk.

"I got a bunch of whining civilians, but at least no more biting fairies trying to get to the chutes anymore. I sent out a squad to deal with them," Root continued.

Foaly neighed. "Tell them about Burdock."

Root huffed. "There will be an investigation. Obviously. But, and I can't believe I am saying this, the media turned the Council into the villain here. Chances are you'll get away with a black eye."

"Because of our commander's heart-breaking sacrifice," Foaly snickered.

Holly shot Trouble a questioning look, who shook his head with a shrug.

"Get down here, whenever you can," Root grunted in his usual brash voice and disconnected the line.

Holly took off her helmet, heaving a sigh of relief and breathing in the stale air in the underground city. She raised her thumb.

Yonatan's smile widened. "I'm glad, your people are well."

Trouble hesitated before he lifted his helmet's visor and looked Yonatan reluctantly in the eye. "Thank you."

The demon waved it away with a good-humoured twinkle in his eyes. He leaned against a column, watching Holly as she massaged the tips of her ears, getting some life back in them.

"Where will you go now?" she asked him.

"Wherever Lucifer is."

Trouble frowned, wiping the sweat from his brow. "After what he did to you?"

Yonatan shrugged and averted his eyes. Not fast enough for them not to notice the tremble in his lips, though.

"The things we do for love," he managed after a while.

Holly tried to make her next sentence sound gentle. "Lucifer might have given up on you."

The demon plastered a cheerful grin on his face. "But I haven't given up on him."

He gave them a nod and walked away, disappearing between the columns. Trouble cleared his throat, motioning to the chutes. Time to get going.

"Care for a drink?" he asked with a smile as he rose into the air.

Holly beamed and followed. "You mean if we still have our jobs by the time we reach?"

"Sure." He stopped to think about it. "Actually. Either way. Think of all the free time, we'll have as unemployed ex-police officers. I'll take you to Greece. Some desert island? Cocktails with those tiny umbrellas in them. Sex on the beach?"

Holly laughed. "You are talking about the drink, right?"

Trouble winked at her before shooting through the sand ceiling. They landed in front of the chute doors and Trouble punched the code into the keypad. He stepped back to let her enter when the doors opened with a whoosh.

"Captain Short. Let's go home."

"Yes, let's," she nodded, walking to their shuttle.

* * *

Artemis for all his grief tried to be civil but the professor didn't share any more details with him. Oddly enough, she didn't take his argument about declining memory loss in combination with increasing age too well. In the end, he reverted to pouting as they walked through Rome's deserted streets. They returned to Padre Matias' flat, who was still sound asleep in his room, oblivious to the chaos in the city.

Settling in his living room, the four sat in silence, their adrenaline subsiding.

"Where will you go now?" Sofia asked the Major. He shrugged, pushing the wooden box with Lucifer's essence into his pocket and tugged at the chain around his neck.

"Going back to marching around that damned tree, I guess."

The mood diminished significantly, although only the Major and Sofia knew exactly why.

Sofia remembered her grandmother, standing underneath the tree's gnarly branches and its dead fruit, before the attack of the beast. It was not fair that the Major had to return when he had protected all of them. And it wasn't fair that she would not be able to avoid the same destiny, once she died. Except… she still had the golden apple. Her heart sank. One life for eternal life. Who was she kidding? She could never kill anybody. Not even for getting immortality.

Plus, there were so many people, she wanted to keep save. Was there no way of using it for everybody? The golden fruit kept dancing in front of her eyes. One wasn't enough! She blinked and darted a glance at Butler, who returned her gaze with raised eyebrows. Think of the bigger picture, she ordered herself. But what _was_ the bigger picture? Her stare made Butler uncomfortable. He opened his mouth, but she abruptly straightened in her seat.

They needed more apples! And where could you get more apples from if you couldn't get them from a leery dragon? An apple tree. If they grew a tree, there would be enough apples for everybody. Right? But who knew how long it would take for a tree to grow? Even one from a golden apple. The Major wouldn't benefit from their gardening shenanigans. Unless...

"Butler," she said, looking as if she had woken up from a dream.

Butler took a breath, bracing himself for whatever she might have come up with now.

"The apple."

He paused, perplexed.

"The apple. Give me the apple!"

She held out her hand. Reaching into his jacket, he gave her the apple. He wondered for a split second if she would lose her mind and go on a murder spree. She didn't. Instead, she turned to the Major and offered him the fruit. He looked at her as if she had grown another head.

"I am not hungry."

Sofia rolled her eyes. "It's not for eating. Trust me. It's a golden apple."

"I can _see_ that it's a golden apple. What am I supposed to do with it?"

Artemis sat up. He remembered this one. "Is that the golden apple that grants immortality?"

Sofia nodded. "Exactly. But Lucifer said you will have to sacrifice a life for it."

The Major still didn't understand. Neither did Butler.

"The dead tree in Hell. Don't you see? Something must have grown there at some point. What if you plant the apple in Hell? If it grows into a tree and people eat it, nobody would ever have to be devoured by the creatures."

"That is a far-fetched theory," the Major said. "What do you base this on?"

She shrugged. "A hunch?"

"A hunch," he repeated. "What if this is what death is supposed to be like and we should cease to exist."

Sofia held his gaze. "Maybe, but it shouldn't end by a creature from Hell."

It was now or never. The Major's time was nearly up and the longer she thought about it the more she would doubt herself. She placed the apple in his hand.

"I have every confidence in you, sir," she said with a smile as he faded from sight, Michael's sword in one hand and the golden apple in the other.

Artemis sighed in frustration. He didn't even get the chance to examine the apple! This night couldn't get much worse, could it?

"Let's go home, Butler. I have had enough of angels and demons. Or Italy for that matter," he said, getting up from his seat. "Do you need to be dropped off somewhere, Professor?"

She shook her head, standing. "I should pay my parents a visit."

"Great. Butler, please order a taxi, will you?" Artemis buttoned his jacket and turned to the priest's bookshelf, pretending to read the titles.

Butler pulled his phone out of his pocket. Back to his normality. He called a taxi, while Sofia scribbled a note for the priest on one of his notepads. They left the flat a short while later and stepped out on to the street.

Artemis' relief was almost palpable as their taxi turned around the corner and stopped at the roadside. He turned to Sofia, extending his hand. "Professor, I am not going to lie. This hasn't necessarily been a pleasant encounter, but I am grateful for your help."

Sofia shook his hand. "I have some old notes at my parent's house. I'll copy and fax them to you."

Artemis' eyes widened and he gripped her hand tighter. "That would be… much appreciated, Professor."

He turned and climbed into the taxi, closing the door behind him. Butler shot the driver a dark look in case he was about to try something unwise before turning to Sofia. "That was pretty brave."

Sofia knew exactly what he meant. She shrugged nonchalantly. "It would have just laid around, catching dust."

The bodyguard made a doubtful sound. The decision couldn't have been easy. He wondered if she already regretted it.

"You'd be surprised what a chess lesson can do to your world view," she added and gave him an impish grin. Butler chuckled softly.

" _Conosco i miei polli,_ " he suddenly said.

Her mouth fell open in disbelief before she began laughing. He wasn't sure if it was because of his accent. He didn't mind.

They stood in a comfortable silence until Artemis tapped the window impatiently. Sofia shifted her weight from one foot to the other, pulling a piece of crumpled paper from her dress pocket. Butler recognised the paper from the priest's notepad as she held it out to him.

"Please don't take this the wrong way," she spluttered when Butler took it. "This isn't… I mean, I am not… trying to make a pass at you. Should I have added my last name?"

It took him a split second to realize what the numbers on it meant. It was a telephone number. Followed by one word. _Sofia._

His lips twitched as he tried to keep a straight face. He folded the note in half and pushed it into the breast pocket of his jacket, the number already etched in his memory. Butler met her eyes.

"Professor," he said and held out his hand.

She grinned up at him, giving him a firm handshake.

"Butler."

Artemis tapped the window once more.

Sofia laughed again and released Butler's hand. Taking a deep breath of Rome's morning air, she turned into the direction of the train station. Time to go home.

The End…

…for now.

* * *

 **A/N** : We did it! Guys, thank you all so much for staying until the end. I hope you enjoyed this last chapter. Once again, many thanks to everybody who has kudosed and/or commented.

As you might have guessed from Sofia's note, I am not quite finished telling this tale, haha. I have a few drafts that I will be editing over the next three to four weeks, so I'd be over the moon to see you back for the continuation of the [Insert fancy and catchy name for this series] series.

Until next time. Take care!

PS: _Conosco i miei polli –_ Is an Italian saying. The literal translation is "I know my chickens" but the meaning is that the speaker knows the person well and knows how the person will act. It's Butler's attempt at being funny and showing off his Italian skills.

PPS: The security guard from the control room is fine. He woke up and got out in time. In case anyone wondered. ;-)


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